Ain't Afraid to Die
by Cassandra
Summary: Finally coming to grips with Spike's death, the Bebop crew are back to bounty hunting but Spike's sudden reappearance and a botched bounty force Faye to reconsider the life she leads especially when she is targeted by someone from her past. Updating.
1. A Glimpse of Red

**Ain't Afraid to Die**

**Author Note**: So, we're going to try this again because it is my belief someone decided to be a smart$#& and be stupid and get all up my butt about my notes. So I'm going to send this out again, alas without all the remarks after each chapter. Heaven forbid the idiot come back in a fit of jealous rage and try to get the story booted again. God, whoever you are…get a LIFE.

Anyways, this is for you guys, unfortunately we're going to have to go from the beginning once more so forgive the lack of updates but thanks are in order to you guys who always send emails to let me know you guys are rooting still but most assuredly to Kat for being on my butt to continue, and to Vetta for having given me my ONLY complete copy of Ain't Afraid to Die. To you, dear, I owe the world!

**Rating**:BetweenT and M I guess,for much violence and angry cuss words. Gotta love that Bebop language!

**Disclaimers**: Cowboy Bebop does not belong to me nor do the characters or the songs used therein. The song Ain't Afraid to Die is a beautiful and slow song by Dir en Grey, a traditionally Japanese rawk band. I firmly believe you can love the song without being a fan of Kyo's voice or a fan of music in a different language. But I can't imagine the song any other way. Take it as you will.

Once more, though I will no longer voice how much the reviews mean/meant to me, know that I appreciated each and every one of them, before and now. Hope you guys enjoy it the second time around!

**Glimpse of Red:**

_Kimi to futari de aruita ano goro no michi wa naku te_

_soredemo zutto aruita, itsuka kimi to aeru no kana…_

_- - -_

_The way that I used to walk with you is gone_

_But still, I always walked with you,_

_I wonder if I'll ever be able to meet you…_

_**- Ain't Afraid to Die – Dir En Grey**_

_- - -_

**"**_**We shouldn't even be taking her along**. She shouldn't be there. She'll get in the way-"_

"_She's the only one who can get us **in** the way. We need to have her connect directly to their system. And besides, the bounty will-"_

"_Screw the bounty! It won't be worth it if she won't be around to find us **more** of them. Or are you too big an **ass** to understand that?"_

"_Screw you, Faye."_

_- - -_

She had called it, of course. What was the point bringing in Ed if she would just get in the way? Radical Edward she was, not Gun-Toting, Gung-Ho Edward. Her place was on the Bebop and they should have left her there.

Faye Valentine kept her hand firmly across Ed's mouth, the younger girl pressed to her side, the both of them cowering against a cold steel wall, her weapon in the hand closest to the edge of the wall. All around red lights were blinking and the siren had been set off. Intruders. Of course they were intruders. It figured something like this would happen. When they were after a bounty as large as they were, when would something like this not happen? She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment and breathing to three. At four another gunshot rent the air, chipping into the wall where she stood with the hacker. She glanced down at Ed and the girl looked up at her with large eyes. And she didn't look the least bit scared, her expression one of wonder. She clutched Tomato against her chest, her goggles hitched on her head of wild red hair and Faye looked away once more, cursing yet again.

Would bounty hunting ever get easier?

She craned her neck a bit from her position in the hallway. It had intersected with another hallway and Spike had already made it passed, from their hallway down the twenty feet to the right turn the intersecting hallway took. As she hesitated he appeared again, crouched down that far right turn, shooting off three shots before hiding back once more.

"Faye!" he shouted from around the corner.

"What?" she demanded, yelling right back. Damn him for this. Damn him for a lot of things.

"You need to move _now!_ I took down two of them but they're regrouping, come _on!"_ he replied, his voice echoing throughout the cold hallways.

"Ok, ok, ok," Faye chanted quietly and she swallowed. She peeked around the corner and down that long hallway were more of the gunmen, coming from all different intersecting hallways. She cursed as a bullet struck the wall inches from her face, chipping off pieces of metal, and she pulled back into her own hallway. "Shit, Spike, are you covering me or _what?"_ she cried out and she looked down at Ed once more, not bothering to wait for his answer even as he flung it toward her.

"I've been covering your ass for hours now, damn it, let's _go!" _

"Ok, Ed, I'm going first," Faye said to the girl and the hacker looked at her silently as the bounty hunter bent to speak to her. "I'm going to go out into the hallway and I want you to run toward Spike. And for heaven's sake, use that damn computer as a shield if you have to," she growled. She stared at the girl. "Do you understand?"

"Hai! Faye-Faye!" Ed sang, her arms embracing Tomato even more dearly.

"Faye-Faye," Faye grumbled and she straightened once more, her hand lifting the weapon against her shoulder as she breathed once more. "Ok, on the count of three…"

Ed huddled closer to her, her slender form ready.

"One."

Another bullet cut into the wall beside her face, making her stiffen and from ahead of them Spike rose once more, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed as he shot off three more bullets. Perfect precision, cold-hearted resolve.

"Two."

The gunshots slowed for a moment as Spike ducked back around the corner, out of sight. And she heard him reloading, her breath catching in her throat. Inhaling through the ball there she began to move, already shoving Ed.

"_Three!"_ And she flung herself out into the hallway, blocking it with her entire frame, legs opening into a stance. She immediately took down two of them and behind her she heard Spike curse before he also opened fire alongside her. There were more of them and she quickly turned to glance over her shoulder in time to see Spike wind one arm around Ed's nimble waist and lift her out of the way, tossing her around the corner almost absentmindedly. Then he was rising to his full height, shooting off shot after shot, eyes darting around the connecting hallways. Ducking her head she turned and darted, keeping hunched but shooting off blind shots as she ran.

Ahead of her Spike growled and she lifted her head in time to see a bullet graze his face, leaving behind a small line of blood. One eye shut, he shot off even more bullets, littering the hallway, and the return fire was chipping off pieces of metal, roaring in the sterile corridors. A second bullet caught him in the left shoulder and flung him backwards against the wall, his face registering pain for a moment.

_Spike-_

And then she felt it, a sudden explosion of pain, burning agony, along her own left shoulder and she felt it all slow down. Time, the sirens, the ensuing gunfire. Even her breathing and her thoughts. It all just slowed. A second later a second burst of pain came through and she blindly stared, numb, as the bullet broke through her chest, shattering bone and spraying her blood as it went. And in the red flickering lights it seemed almost natural, like water splashing, that faint glimpse of red. But so much darker.

Spike lifted his head, wincing, and he shouted to her, eyes widening angrily but she didn't hear him over the sirens, over the rushing of her blood. Her lips parted, a small sound escaping her, and she fell in the middle of the hallway, her vision blackening, the sirens echoing about her, and Spike's voice ringing in her ears.


	2. Ordeals

Ordeals:

In the middle of the night Faye Valentine awoke with a start. She shot up in bed, her dark hair brushing across her cheeks and she found herself staring blankly at the flickering television screen, the static a low buzzing in the darkened room. It had reached the end of the tape again and had come to a stop. The Bebop was cold and she wondered momentarily if the heat had gone out again. It wouldn't have been the first time. Hunching a bit, she propped her forehead on her palm and merely breathed for a moment, her shoulders heaving.

_Bad dream…_

It was so quiet, after midnight and nothing seemed to move. She lifted her head once more, reaching for the remote control to turn off the tv and the vcr. She felt a bit shaky as she looked around her black room and with a sigh she pushed aside the covers and lowered her legs to the floor. Icy shivers flew up her legs, so cold it almost seemed to burn, and she slowly accustomed herself to the freezing metal before rising from the bed. She needed to walk, to clear her head. And she paused halfway to the door to pick up her pack of cigarettes on the night table.

Outside the hallways were even colder than her room had been. The Bebop whirred as she walked, the familiar hum of engines and even the heat running through the system. But it was no longer comforting, not anymore. She bowed her head as she walked, wishing she had something on other than shorts and a small t-shirt.

The Bebop was a large ship, easy to lose one's way in. But she knew it like the back of her hand now. She had been here for just about over a year and even still she was surprised Jet Black hadn't kicked her out on her ass. It was because she was a familiar face. He had grown accustomed to seeing her everyday and now maybe it was all he had to go on. When Edward had returned she too had been welcomed with open arms. But it wasn't the same. Hadn't been the same since…

It was what she blamed her lack of sleep on. She let Jet believe it was because she always went to bed nursing a cup of hot coffee and a cigarette but she knew better. She was sure he did as well. She couldn't sleep because he haunted her. He always haunted her. Which was such a pile of shit because he didn't deserve any consideration, especially not hers. He had still gone even after she had threatened him with a bullet in the back. He had still gone.

She entered what would have been the "living room" of the Bebop and the room consisted of one ugly yellow couch, a metal table and a chair on the opposite side. Her eyes flew to the couch, her hand almost crushing the box of cigarettes as she saw a long, lean frame stretched out on the piece of furniture. She stared silently for a long moment, feeling the cold deep inside and she whispered, "I see you still. Even though you aren't here anymore, I still see you."

And as she spoke the figure faded away into shadows and nothingness, like a ghost. Exactly like a ghost.

There was a small movement between the chair and the table and she caught sight of a long, thin leg twitching. With a small frown she came in a bit and saw Ed sleeping on the floor, her trusty Tomato at her head, Ein curled up into a little ball beside her. Faye came closer still, noticing the bunched up blanket at Ed's feet and with a sigh she stooped and picked up the blanket, shaking it open. She didn't know how Ed could sleep on the floor like that. It was freezing cold, damn it. Fluttering the blanket once more she flung it open over the sleeping figures and let it drop silently on them, covering them head to toe and she shrugged carelessly as the blanket caught on the table as well.

"Whatever."

Turning back she climbed up the small set of metal stairs toward the back of the room and stepped through into more dark hallways. She needed a place to smoke, hopefully not one where she could easily be found. And she walked, her shoulders hunching once more as she trudged, as she listened to the Bebop work. Most likely Jet was asleep as well. That or working on a bonsai tree somewhere. But it was well after midnight; she doubted anyone was up except herself.

She came out into the bebop's hangar and gazed at her Redtail, slowing a bit. The spot next to it was empty. Had been empty for a while. And if she closed her eyes she could just see the Swordfish II there, its owner sitting upon a wing, long legs dangling, and smoking a cigarette in silence. What had he thought during those silent moments, when he had withdrawn to be alone in the darkness?

_What are you thinking now?_

She fished into her box of cigarettes and pulled one out, also pulling out a small book of matches. She kept trying to remind herself to buy a lighter. The day he had left, he had left his cigarettes and his lighter behind. She had smoked the remainder of his entire pack in one day, half angry and half worried, weeping like a little girl. And when he hadn't come back the next day, or the day after that, or the following week, she had taken the lighter as her own. The lighter fluid had long since finished what with the way she had started smoking. Now she only had the lighter itself. It stayed in her room, tucked under her pillow.

Coming into the hangar, finally lighting her cigarette, she flicked the useless match aside and took a pull, breathing it into herself. Silence and cigarettes. If she had a drink she'd be in heaven.

"Faye, what are you going to do with yourself?" she questioned rhetorically as she leaned against her Redtail. It was her baby, she reflected, as she ran her hand across its sleek yet battered surfaces. The Redtail obeyed every command she gave, no matter where she was. It had gotten her out of trouble more times than she cared to count.

And sometimes it got her into trouble as well but then again she was Trouble-Prone. Almost like Accident-Prone but on a bounty-worthy level.

Faye Valentine. Bounty Hunter. Bounty.

It had been a few weeks since they had handed in a successful bounty. And it was difficult because she did most of the work. Jet didn't leave the Bebop often and Radical Edward was their Bounty Seeker. She was all that was left and she could usually get the job done just with the way she looked. One pair of short hip huggers and just enough cleavage and she could already start counting the woolongs. Hell, she was a good bounty hunter.

He had been a great one.

Then again she had half wondered if he had even been human, the way he had taken punishment. He would come home riddled with bullets, dripping blood on the cold floors, blood she had wiped up and even then he had insulted her left and right. And always with that quizzical little smile of his. She had hated it. She had loved it. And now she had to force herself to remember it.

With a sigh she lifted herself up onto her Redtail, clutching her cigarette between clenched lips. The cockpit seal opened as she unlatched it and she reached in, flicking a few small buttons.

Instantly, loud music poured out, roaring in the hangar bay, and she cursed as she quickly lowered the volume. "Shit…" The last thing she wanted was Jet to come in and order her off to bed. She had been caught a number of times by him and every time he caught her he had sounded more and more like a father than a friend. The way things were going he would eventually tell her to get some respectable clothes.

_Ha, yeah right…_

She went through several stations, hanging half out of the cockpit, before pausing on a station that trickled out some jazz. She liked jazz. And lounge. Swing. Rock and roll. Alternative rock. Couldn't really stomach heavy metal. She lay down across one of the Redtail's legs, exhaling some smoke and merely looking up at the ceiling.

A loud bark resounded throughout the hangar, effectively bringing her back up to her rear. "Gah-"

Below waited the data dog, cheerfully looking up with a panting pink tongue.

"Ein! You stupid-" she growled passed her cigarette and hopped off the Redtail leg as the dog barked once more. "Shut up already-"

With a happy little bark, tongue drying in the air, the dog took off around the room, punctuating each merry hop with a loud bark.

"Damn, damn, damn!" Faye followed, cursing under her breath. She lunged after the data dog, trying to ignore the cold floor the beast so happily scampered across. His nails clicked as he trotted, barking, and she dove to block him as he made a sharp right. Throwing herself, she landed flat on her stomach, sliding across the smooth floor even, as Ein mischievously hopped out of her twitching hands, tongue and tail wagging.

"Ein!" she whined through her cigarette. Rising once more, teeth chattering, she went after him as he slid across the slippery floors. She was almost positive he smiled behind his lolling tongue, his puppy eyes wide and gleaming. Sliding across the floor as well she managed to correct her direction, getting in the dog's way and Ein came to a dead stop with a surprised whimper.

Face darkening with cruel intentions, Faye slowly reached out with clawed fingers. "Now, Ein, since we've finally managed to stop for a small moment, let me tell you what I've wanted to do to you since I first met you…" she whispered with maniacal glee. And she flung herself once more, coming down on the dog and trapping him under her weight.

A high-pitched squeal rang throughout the hangar just as the light came on. Lifting her head Faye glanced toward the doorway to see Ed standing there beside a not very happy looking Jet.

The hacker shrieked in horror, pointing a finger at the crushed data dog before fainting dead away.

Beside her unconscious but twitching form, Jet crossed his arms over his wide chest, growling. "Faye…" he said in a warning tone.

"You're hungrier than I am, I know you are!" Faye said instantly and she lifted Ein up by a hind leg, shaking him as if to emphasize her point. "He can last us for weeks! _Weeks!"_

"Faye…" Jet said once more in that same wary tone. "Put the dog down."

"I don't want to!" she cried through her cigarette, shaking the dog once more and causing him to issue forth a whimper. "I want something for dinner other than bell peppers and beef! I want actual _beef_, damn it! And I don't care where I get the beef from so long as there's _beef!_"

Hanging upside down, Ein cheerfully panted, quirking his head.

Jet sighed, bowing his head and looking toward the floor. "Are you going to bring up the beef thing every time we-" and he came to a stop, staring. Faye arched an eyebrow as he suddenly stooped and picked something up off the floor. "Is this…" he asked, his question breaking off halfway.

Faye cast a quick glance at the cigarette she had been chomping on, noticing the ash that hung off the edge.

"A _match?_" Jet asked and he suddenly bellowed, "I just cleaned this place up today! All day, sweeping and mopping! Don't you have a lighter you can use?" he demanded furiously.

Faye hesitated, instantly thinking of the one under her pillow. "No, I don't," she said, suddenly very quiet. And she slowly lowered the dog to the cold floor, allowing him to scamper off toward Ed.

Jet stared at her, breaking off in mid-tirade.

Wordlessly but with a soft sigh, Faye rose to her feet and hopped back up to the Redtail, reaching in to turn off the music coming from the ship faintly. She didn't want to meet his eyes then, didn't want to hear it again. Always the same thing. Spike was gone and it was over. No more dwelling, no more wishing. She locked up the Redtail once more, consoling herself quietly, and she slid back down to the floor, landing with a soft sound.

Jet had come up a few steps, looking uncomfortable, a hand on the back of his neck and his eyes averted. "You know, Faye-" he began to say.

"Save it, Jet," she cut him off quietly. "I think I have it memorized. '_Spike isn't around anymore, you really shouldn't think about it so much. He went off and did what he had to do and sure, I'm angry too, but it was his choice and it was something he had to do.'_ Isn't that how it goes?" and she looked at him pointedly.

Jet nodded, his lips twisting in an expression of, '_Hey, not bad.'_

Faye sighed, arms crossing over her chest as she did so. And she shook her head, searching for the right words. "I _am_ angry, Jet. I'm angry for a lot of things but most of them concerning him. And it's stupid to even say what I'm angry at because…no, it's not stupid," she corrected herself. "It's fucking embarrassing. I'm going to come off sounding like a whiny little girl and that's not me. I don't need to be sounding like that-"

"I'm angry that I can't pick up after him anymore," Jet cut in and she stared at him, green eyes wide. He shrugged and a slow smile crept over his face as he returned the gaze. "I'm angry that he isn't here to complain about my cooking. I'm angry that he isn't here to hog the couch, or use up all the hot water. Things that I would have hated had he still been here and here I am missing them. If yours are more embarrassing than mine, then no, maybe you shouldn't be telling me."

Faye maintained her directed gaze at him, her lips parted slightly. And she smiled then, feeling tears inside. How stupid to miss things that infuriated a person. And yet, that only proved how much they had cared in the end. She bowed her head, hiding away the tears that rose in her eyes and she turned away from him, hands clasping behind her back.

"I miss the name-calling," she whispered quietly and she looked toward the empty spot reserved for the Swordfish II, seeing it there still through blurred vision. "I miss his stupid orange-striped boxers. I miss his stupid green hair. Whose hair is green, anyway? I miss the smell of his cigarettes. I miss the way he could sit in silence for so long that you forgot he was even there and then how he could suddenly turn to you, insult you, and then go back to the tv as if it hadn't even happened…"

Behind her Jet was silent for a long moment as she broke off. And then, uncertainly, he said, "Wow, that…really _was_ a lot more embarrassing than mine…"

Faye whirled with a low growl.

His eyes closed as he smiled, hands help up as a sign of peace. "I'm kidding, I'm _kidding_…" he said.

Faye maintained her glare for an additional ten seconds before, "Humph," and she stalked over to Ed's figure on the floor. Pausing beside the hacker and her trusty companion, Faye glared at the data dog as he sent her an adorable look. "I don't fall for shit like that, Ein," she grumbled and she nudged Ed's form with a foot.

The hacker smiled in her semi-unconscious state and she reached out with long gangly limbs, purring. "Ein, Tomato is free! Look at him go with Broccoli! Go, Tomato, go!"

Faye arched an eyebrow as Jet came up beside her to stare down at the girl.

"I don't get her either half the time," Jet swore innocently. And with that he bent and lifted Ed onto his shoulder as she giggled some more and ended with a snort. Ein looked up expectantly as well and it was Faye who scooped him up, glaring maliciously at the data dog as he whimpered.

"Where were we, Ein?" she asked sweetly.


	3. Ganbatte ne

_Nadaraka_ _na oka no ue yuruyakani yuki ga furu_  
_todokanai_ _to wakattemo kimi no heya ni hitotsu  
daisuki datta hana wo ima..._

_The snow falls gently on a hill  
__Even though I can't reach you, I understand_  
_The flower in your room that you loved is now..._

**Ganbatte** **ne**

_I can't breathe. I can't…breathe…_

There were red lights all around, flashing across cold metal walls, and the sirens…they were so loud. Deafening. She winced faintly, feeling like she floated, like she didn't exist. And there was a stinging pain somewhere in her chest. It was a strain to allow air to pass and she inhaled shakily, her breath ragged.

"I can't…breathe…" she whispered.

And next to her, holding her with one arm around her waist to support her, was Spike, looking about in an expression that closely resembled exasperation. She stared at him through hooded eyes, struggling to bring her vision into focus but he swam in and out, a large blur.

"You're fine," he said to her a bit too quickly as he turned his head to glance at her. And then he looked down to his opposite side, snapping, "Ed! You got it or what?"

"Ed is busy! No talking!" the girl's voice came from the other side, sounding absentminded and there was the faint tapping of computer keys. "Tomato is having difficulty-"

"Damn it…" Spike murmured and he dragged himself backward, clutching her a bit tighter around the waist, her arm flung over his shoulder and clasped there as well. He encountered a wall and leaned back on it, shifting her.

She felt weak. Weary. She moved any direction he decided to move her, her limbs heavy and limp as he released the arm he held around his neck and pulled her up against his side. She felt her feet drag across the solid floor, the flashing red lights blinding her and sending her spinning. She only felt like this when she drank too much. Or when she was in Spike's company too long. She groaned faintly as he wound both arms around her and readjusted his grip on her, staring down at her critically.

A round stain of blood marred his shoulder, his blue jacket, and she stared, not understanding. With a weak finger she pointed to it and mumbled, "You're going to get it on me…" and her tone was laced with weary attitude.

The bounty hunter snorted at her, shaking his head. "Hate to say it, Faye, but you don't have to worry about that," he replied.

And the way he said it made her pause dizzily. Frowning, she lowered her gaze to look down at herself and her entire being went cold as she saw the splattered blood all over her chest. Utter fear overtook her, her breath suddenly ragged as she stared in eye-widening realization. And she was aware of Spike making small shushing sounds at her as she began to gasp, her world spinning.

"Oh, my God…oh, my-"

"Calm down," Spike said instantly to her as she slowly lifted a trembling hand to her chest. "Calm down, Faye, you're going to hyperventilate, calm _down-_"

"_You_ fucking calm down," she whispered in a shaky hiss, her fingers trailing across her broken figure. That's where the pain came from, why she couldn't seem to breathe passed a thick ball of cotton. She stared until her vision swam, until she was sure the vertigo had finally taken over and she was seeing nothing but dizziness and pain. Her vision blackened momentarily, the stained blood seeming to grow darker, threatening, and in her ear Spike was saying something, heaving her up to keep her focused. But she didn't care. She didn't want to be here. And she wasn't going to be here.

After midnight again. Faye rose in bed once more, the tv on once more, the videocassette at its end once more.

"Do your best, do your best! Me, me_, me_!"

She exhaled, lifting a hand to her eyes as the girl's voice, her voice, continued to echo in the cold, silent room. She was still drunk, damn it. She had gone to sleep after at least five shots of some old Tequila Jet had kept around. She hated Tequila. It went down horribly. But it had been hilarious, talking about days gone, all the things that had happened. All the good things because one mournful thought in her drunken state would have ripped down all her walls and sent her bawling. The night hadn't been about mourning. It had been about remembering and she regretted once more not having any pictures of their group when it had been complete. She would tell Ed in the morning to go buy a camera, anything, to start recording things because life was too fleeting not to. She would not allow another moment to pass, another member to leave, without having something of them and being able to say that, even if no one else had ever known them, _she_ had. The mere thought brought a sharp stinging to her eyes and she fought against allowing herself to weep. She had cried once in front of Jet, only once, and she swore she would never do it again. The look on his face had been even more sorrowful than her own and she had hated herself because she had never actually comforted _him_ through their loss. She couldn't have done it anyway.

After she had started slurring and looking green, Jet had politely walked her to her room. Politely meaning yanking her after him as he had dragged her to her room, demanding why she had downed so many shots. She had been quick to point out that _he_ had been playing bartender, and _that_ little foolish comment had gotten her thrown into the cold shower instead, clothes and all, to help her drunkenness pass.

It hadn't worked. But her hair smelled damned good now thanks to the shampoo she had refilled. Jet obviously believed shampoo was not a bare necessity. And the quick vision of light playing across his baldhead had blinded her. She grumbled to herself as she rose once more, wincing at the cold floor under her bare feet. It was going to be another one of those nights. And hopefully this time she wouldn't run into Jet or Ein. She passed by her night table, picking up her cigarettes on the way to the door. This time she'd smoke in that common room, no matter who was around. And if Ed and Ein happened to be there she would kick them out. She needed a smoke tonight more than she needed to breathe.

The walk there took forever. Almost like she had eaten those mushrooms again. Spike had spoken of his experience with those mushrooms Ed had brought home one day and because it had not amused him in the least it had automatically sent her to the floor rolling and shrieking with laughter. She smiled to herself as she trudged, still hearing his voice.

"_Well, what the hell did you go through?"_

"_I went swimming in the bathroom."_

She burst into silent laughter, and then she paused in the corridor, supporting herself against the wall as she was overcome by that laughter. She couldn't help it, she really couldn't, and she found herself gasping and clutching her stomach with one hand, trying very hard not to make a sound but unable to prevent the giggles. Her vision blurring, she reached the room and upon stepping in she saw the faint shadow, the long lean frame stretched out on the couch, and a chill went through her. She came to a dead stop, laughter forgotten instantly, fingers instinctively crushing her cigarettes once more and the vision of him swam as she tried to focus.

"You're not real. You're not real…" she whispered inaudibly and she squeezed her eyes shut. He wasn't real and, damn it, she shouldn't have gotten drunk. Her head was ready to burst of all the nausea she was experiencing, her throat dry. Slowly opening an eye, her vision wavered, coming in and out of focus and she saw the faint shadow still.

_Screw this. Screw this! Enough mourning already, Faye! You were different before he entered your life and you can be that way again! Just face this fear already!_

Resolving herself and clenching her jaw, she stalked, more like stumbled, over to the couch and putting her back to it she plopped down like a load of bricks.

"What the _hell-" _came a loud, stunned voice and Faye's eyes popped open just as she was unceremoniously bucked off the couch and into the metal table. She staggered for a moment, catching herself on the floor and she whirled on her rear as the lanky frame sprang from the couch, the image of him blurred.

"Geez, Faye, what the _fuck?"_ the man cried and she stared, blinking and trying to correct her vision. She still couldn't see him but his image loomed over her suddenly, invading her space as he brought his face close to hers. "Shit, no wonder. You're fucking _drunk!"_

The light came on then, instantly blinding her and she lifted a hand to her eyes, glancing over to see Jet there beside the doorway. And his eyes were wide, his bearded jaw falling open in disbelief.

Hopping up with Tomato perfectly balanced on her head of red hair, Ed cried, "Spike-person!"

And, clapping a hand over her mouth, Faye rose and fled, making it to the bathroom just in time to hurl.


	4. Coffee and Cigarettes

**Coffee and Cigarettes**

A mug of coffee was placed down before her. She looked at it and then caught sight of the long-fingered hand that had placed it there and she looked up quickly, her body freezing.

Spike Spiegel looked down at her, studying her, and as she returned his gaze he smiled awkwardly, his eyes sliding shut, a hand lifting to the back of his neck. "I didn't think the mere sight of me would have you running to the bathroom," he said in his low tone and she recoiled from it, from him. It wasn't him. It wasn't. He noticed her reaction, though, and the corner of his mouth quirked before he turned away and went back to the coffeepot.

It was barely five in the morning. No one in their right mind would have been up at this time, not anyone aboard the Bebop anyway. It just further proved that she had finally lost it. She lifted her eyes back to Spike's lean frame as he served himself a mug and then he was coming back, seeming reluctant but trying to play it off.

"I wanted to be alone," she whispered and she dropped her eyes to the mug of coffee letting off steam before her.

He shrugged at her as he took a scalding sip of his own coffee. "You got a room," he drawled. "Unless you're back to the bathroom? Has Jet been handcuffing you again?"

"Why are you here?" she demanded and she instantly cut off the tone, already feeling bad. She had no right to be angry. And it was too early in the morning for an argument. She hadn't had her coffee, hadn't had a cigarette since she had crushed her box, and she hadn't gotten any sleep in between throwing up in the toilet and being wracked with shivers in her room. Spike had been the first to ask to explain in the morning, that he had been too tired to explain in the middle of the night and it had been settled. Now it was barely morning and here he was trying to make small talk. She couldn't stand it.

"I live here," he shrugged once more.

"You _lived_ here," she corrected and she leaned away from the coffee, wondering if he had somehow doctored it. Why was he even here? When had he made the coffee and where had she been that she hadn't even noticed? She wanted to be alone, she couldn't take having him there, couldn't take having him look at her out of the corner of his eye as he sipped his damn hot coffee nonchalantly.

"Aw, you see, Faye? I missed this, this cheerful bickering between the two of us. Why did we stop?" he asked with a sigh, leaning back in his chair and reaching into his pocket.

_Because you left, dumb ass._

She wisely kept shut. Looking down at the coffee she slowly reached out and drew the mug near, wrapping her fingers around it and wishing to warm herself from it. He watched her as she picked it up and brought it to her lips and he snorted loudly as she took a sip and almost spit it out.

"Crap, Spike! You call this _coffee?_" she demanded and she slammed the cup down, absentmindedly enjoying the loud clunk it made. "Did you learn nothing wherever it is that you ran off to?"

He took out a box of cigarettes, slipping one out and reaching across the table for an ashtray. Placing the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and drawing the ashtray close, he said, "I learned that you never trust anyone else's coffee," and he reached back into his pocket to pull out a book of matches.

Faye stared at the matches as he lit his cigarette off one and putting aside the used match he reached for his box of cigarettes once more, producing a cigarette for her. She looked at it, then at him, before slowly reaching across the table and taking it. Her hand trembled as she took it and she knew that he noticed it but she snatched her hand back quickly, murmuring a soft, "Thanks."

He looked at her as he slouched in the chair, his coffee steaming before his dark face. She couldn't stand that he stared at her. She never could stand it, especially not with the expression he had on his face. The only time she had ever been able to stand it was when they fought because the look had been one of impatience. She had always had a knack for making people impatient. But any other look he had given her had driven her crazy. It had left her wondering if she had had something on her face, something in her teeth.

She slowly reached across the table once more, wishing she would stop trembling, and he merely watched her hand as it slid across the surface, fingers reaching out for the book of matches. And his hand suddenly came down to block the matches, holding his cigarette pointed to her where he held it between his index and middle fingers. She stared at his cigarette silently but with a confused expression and when she looked at him he arched an eyebrow at her.

"Don't be stingy with the matches," she said, managing a growl in her voice, one she didn't feel. She was exhausted.

"I'm not," he said and he motioned with his cigarette. "Come on, romani, are you that out of it?"

She stared at him at his words, at his term for her. She had always likened it to a term of endearment from him and fighting the small smile that broke across her face she chuckled nonetheless, bringing a small smile to his face as well. "Some things don't change, gaucho," she whispered, and she went to light her cigarette off his, only too aware that she trembled.

With a short sigh he leaned forward and took hold of her wrist, steadying her as he met the tip of his burning cigarette to hers long enough to light it. She swallowed inaudibly, willfully forcing herself to remain calm in his grip and once he had it lit he released her, shaking his head at her.

"Turning into a big addiction?" he asked her as he leaned back once more and finally took a drag.

Avoiding his eyes she brought her own cigarette to her lips and for a moment couldn't remember for the life of her what to do with it.

_Geez, I'm losing it…I can't believe-_

Spike cocked his head a bit as she zoned for a moment, the cigarette at her lips. "Do you want me to smoke it for you, too?" he demanded. "Shit, for that I might as well have just kept it-"

"You know, Spike," she suddenly cut him off, her face becoming angry, "_screw you_. What fucking right do you have to come back and make a pain of yourself? What were you expecting, huh? A big welcome home bash? For all of us to throw ourselves at your feet and cheer your return?" she pointed at him with the fingers holding the cigarette. "_You_ were the one who left. _You_ were the one who needed to go on this life quest and get yourself killed. And _you_ were the one who didn't care one way or another what happened to us so how about you cut the _shit_ and try putting yourself in our shoes-"

"Are you speaking for everyone on their behalf?" he asked her coldly. "Because when I showed up I recall Jet being damn happy and Ed was practically hopping up and down with fucking _joy_. Even _Ein_ was thrilled. The only one who is giving me a problem is you so what's _your_ fucking deal?"

Slamming a hand down on the table, Faye rose, this time visibly shaking with anger. "My _fucking_ deal," she said in a quietly controlled murmured tone, "is that I don't feel that I should have to be all chummy-chummy with you because you skipped out on us. My _fucking_ deal, is that you don't deserve anything from us, especially not a place to stay. And you _definitely_ don't deserve the welcoming that you got. You're _shit_ for brains, Spike, and I was right when I said some things don't change-"

"Yeah, some things don't change," he said in the same exact threatening tone. "You're still totally hung up on me. I thought some time would clear the cobwebs from your head but you're still as dense as ever-"

"What the fuck did you just say?" she demanded in disbelief.

"You heard what the fuck I just said," he threw back, and he rose as well, leaning forward and still managing to loom over her. He always had the extra height over her and she found herself hating the fact that she had to look up at him while he was allowed the satisfaction of looking down on her. He motioned with his cigarette, pointing her dead in her face. "You think I've never seen the look? The way a woman can stare at someone and it's so damn _obvious_ what she's thinking? You can read her like a fucking book and _you_, Faye, can be read."

Faye stared at him, her lips parted, stunned and indignant. And hurt. Her eyes shifted from one mahogany-toned eye to another and she could see the difference still in those eyes, the fake eye compared to the real one. And even the fake eye was capable of accusation. Dropping her gaze to his mouth, blinking dumbly, she backed away from the table and managed to ram into the chair she had just risen from.

She needed to get away. Suddenly, desperately, she needed to get away. Away from that damned accusation, the lean frame of the one who had given her nightmares. She needed to stop hearing his voice, even though it resounded in her head. And she needed to stop smelling him as well, his brand of cigarettes. She had avoided his brand for the very reason that they had been his brand and in his absence he had not changed his taste. Almost frantically she dropped her cigarette, watching it bounce across the surface of the metal table, and she backed away further, escaping the confined space between the chair and the table.

He leaned forward onto the table, resting his hands on the surface and with a sigh he said, "Faye-"

"No," she said instantly, holding out a hand to him and causing him to pause. "I'm not going to listen to this crap. Not now and especially not from you. You're fucking crazy if you think I'm-" and she didn't even finish her sentence, shaking her head and turning to storm out of the room.

"Faye," he called after her. And he was rewarded with her footsteps and then, several moments later, the slamming of the door that separated the kitchen from the rest of the Bebop.


	5. Bounty Hunting

Bounty Hunting:

She closed the door quietly behind herself, facing it as she did so. The hallways were quiet and far off she heard the TV on, heard the small sounds of Ed typing away on Tomato, no doubt looking up some bounties for them to pursue. She looked down the hallway in that direction and then in the opposite direction, toward where the kitchen lay. She was not in the mood to be harassed by anyone that day and whosoever decided to get in her way would pay for it sorely.

But she needed a cup of coffee. A real cup of coffee, not that shit Spike had concocted only a few hours before. And a cigarette, too. Jet usually had a cigarette to spare, no matter how much he fought not to. If she had to she would go outside of the Bebop to get those things. She didn't want to be here for the moment. For a while. She wanted to be far away, somewhere to think in peace.

She needed a bounty.

Turning on her heel, she went in Ed's direction, her head bowed. She could just leave for a few days, handle some small business, collect a bounty and then come home. It would relieve some tension, some stress. Then again, sex could do the same thing but she didn't want some stranger pawing at her. And besides, sex didn't pay off nearly as well as handing in a bounty. She smiled to herself as she walked. Perfect. A bounty, a nice small one, easy. Get it done, collect the money, turn in Jet's share to him, and maybe gamble away the rest. She never had paid off her own debts but when she handed in bounties she usually handed them in under Jet's name. She needed to stay under the radar when it came to the money on her own head.

A door immediately to her right opened and she managed to flinch and brace herself as she rammed directly into a tall figure. A snicker sounded as they both bounced off each other and she found herself glaring at Spike as he righted himself, coming out of the bathroom.

"Watch it," she growled at him and she wound around to continue walking.

"Still mad, huh?" he called after her lazily and she flipped him off, not bothering to slow her step. She wanted to get to Ed. Edward would help her find something to do, someone to take down. Someone to viciously beat up if she needed to. They all deserved it, those people with bounties on their heads.

Edward didn't even acknowledge her presence when she plopped herself down on the ugly yellow couch. "Ed."

"Hai," the girl sang, tapping at Tomato.

"Find me a bounty. Something simple and sweet," Faye responded and she met Ed's eyes as the girl looked at her curiously.

"A bounty for Faye-Faye all by herself?" Ed asked.

Faye nodded, sitting back on the couch and crossing her legs. "Something right up my alley," she murmured and she glanced back toward the corridor, clenching her jaw.

"Jack Spade. Now that's a name I can grow to love…" Faye sighed to herself and she leaned back against the couch, staring at Tomato's screen over Ed's head of wild red hair. The picture onscreen of the man wasn't half bad, a young man with dark hair and, even in his mugshot, a killer smile. A very familiar killer smile and she tried not to think of Spike. "Also known as Black Jack. Wanted for embezzlement, insurance fraud and conspiracy to commit murder? Where the hell did that come from? And a bounty of three million woolongs," she read off the laptop. "He just gets better and better. Does he frequent casinos? Please say he does…"

Ed typed a few buttons, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. "Oooh, casinos, yes…" she replied and she motioned to a list of casino names.

Faye leaned forward, squinting thoughtfully. "Most of those are on Mars," she noted. "Spotted at the Golden Chip, the Full House, Aces…"

"Edward was there once," Ed piped up. "A long time ago."

"You were at a casino?" Faye asked him with an eyebrow arched suspiciously. "They actually let you in, a little kid like you?"

"Edward snuck in with Tomato. Edward played cards and slots but then they took Ed away." She sounded crestfallen.

Faye smirked. "Don't worry, Ed, one of these days I'll take you back. We'll have ourselves a drink, us girls."

"Oooh-la-la…"

Faye rose, stretching a bit. "Let me get that info transferred," she said and she flowed over toward the corridor, thinking furiously. She would need to pack a few things for a few days. She didn't know how long this bounty would take but the simple fact that Mr. Black Jack liked to frequent casinos would only stall her. She would have to be prepared to spend a few days just cruising the casinos.

Darn it.

Floating down the hallway back toward her room she found herself pausing at the loud voices that came from the kitchen, further down the corridor. She stopped at her door reluctantly, automatically straining to hear and was that Jet and Spike arguing?

"All I'm saying is that you haven't been around and a lot of things change," Jet said in his offhand tone. There was the clatter of pots and pans and now that she had paused in the hallway she could smell breakfast being made. The aroma of freshly made coffee filtered in her direction and she could have floated away happily on that smell. "She's different, sure. We're all different. We are kinda shocked to have you back, is all."

There was a small pause. "Ok, so why am I getting the bitchy attitude from just her, then?" asked Spike. "I mean, are you mad, too? I didn't go to piss off everyone on this damn ship-"

"No, I'm not mad," Jet replied. "I understand why you went. Well, actually, I don't and you haven't really explained it anyway. But I can guess why you went. I mean, I told you to, after all, and sure, everyone has to do it once in their lives, go out and do something for themselves. She needs to understand that, too-"

"Exactly!"

"But," Jet cut off his agreement, "personally, maybe you do owe her an apology. At least for skipping out. Hell, I think you owe all of us an apology, but I don't think it would matter to Ed much."

"Yeah, about that, too. When did she come back? I thought she was off with her dad."

There was another pause in which Faye could only guess Jet shrugged. "Just came back one day, blown in by the wind. Showed up on the docking station, lugging her Tomato and Ein with her. Made herself right at home again."

Another pause and Faye's nose twitched as she caught another powerful whiff of coffee.

And then Spike sighed. She had heard him do it often enough but he sounded weary doing it now. Tired. Burdened, even.

"Did you piss her off already?" Jet asked even though he sounded like he already knew the answer.

"Of course I did. What kind of guy would I be if I hadn't?" Spike replied and she bristled, seeing the smile he must have had plastered on his face, in her head.

"Well, she's been doing good lately. She doesn't need you throwing her," Jet mumbled.

A pause. And then, his voice heavy with disbelief, "Jet, are you actually sticking up for our darling Faye?" Spike asked.

"No," Jet said instantly. And the pots and pans stopped sounding for a moment. "I'm only saying that she took it hard when you left, real hard. And you popping up and pissing her off-"

Faye stormed down the corridor, forcing such weight into her step that the sound bounced inside the cylindrical hallway like gunshots. The voices automatically stopped, hesitating, and Faye appeared at the doorway of the kitchen, glaring in.

"I don't need you sticking up for me!" she shouted instantly to Jet, who merely stared at her in surprise, his apron tied around his waist. "I don't need you to explain what happened while he was gone and I sure as hell don't need you making me come off like a little girl! And you," she motioned to Spike who had been caught halfway through lighting a cigarette, his eyes slightly wide, "if you want to know something about me, ask the fucking expert!"

And with that she whirled and stormed right back down the corridor to her room. No noise followed her and she was sure she had at least shut them up for a moment. And it felt good. Her door slid open as she reached it and she waltzed in, immediately digging through her clothes for a duffel bag.

"Talk about me like I'm not even there-"

She threw together a small pile and hefted the duffel bag over her shoulder, exiting once more into the suddenly very quiet hallway. Served them right for talking about her as if she weren't even there. Fuming, she stalked down the corridor back toward Ed and the hacker looked at her wide-eyed as she accepted a small handheld palmpad, Black Jack's stats already downloaded into it. Faye examined it for a moment, her jaw clenched, and as Ed continued to stare at her she managed a smile for the hacker. A smile like the kind Poker Alice used to sling around. "Don't wait up," she sang to the hacker as she left the room, heading toward the docking station and her Redtail.

She could do this. She could bring in this bounty, make herself feel useful. She had to. She slowed a bit on the way to the hangar, her thoughts racing furiously. If he really was back to stay he would take it all away, everything she had worked hard for. He would become the bounty hunter Jet trusted above all. He would be in her face all day, every day, smoking his foul smelling-

Sweet smelling…

Cigarettes. Foul-smelling cigarettes. He would run around, throwing himself in tight spots and expecting her to clean up after him and she couldn't do it anymore, not anymore. It had hurt too much the first time around, she couldn't do it again.

He had only been back for a few hours and this was what he did to her.

Coming into the hangar she went toward her Redtail and came to a complete stop at seeing the Swordfish II right beside her own ship. It merely rested there silently, battered. But it was still one of the most precious sights. She managed to take a step and then another and she drew close to the Swordfish II, her hand lifting. In the lights of the hangar it was sleek, like her Redtail, and just as tattered. But, just looking at it, one saw that the ship could maneuver well, was known for its speed and its ability to squirm out of rough spots. That was what the Swordfish II did, what its owner did. It didn't have nearly the same capabilities the Redtail did, nor were its weapons up to par but the Swordfish II was beautiful nonetheless. She touched her palm to one of the ship's wings, marveling at the fact that only hours ago it had not even been aboard the Bebop. A few hours ago the Swordfish II had been as lost as its owner. But now it stood before her, still intact, almost majestic. Her lips parted as she ran her hand over the metal of the ship and behind her the hangar door slid open.

Spike stood at the doorway, a cigarette in his mouth, and as she whirled he merely looked at her, his eyes shifting from her to her hand.

She yanked her hand away, stepping back and as he came in she was automatically going for her Redtail.

"Faye, hold on-"

No, no, no.

Instantly she was reaching into her pocket, pulling out her small remote and the small pod came open with a soft breath of air. She hopped up, pulling herself onto ship and moving toward the seat.

"Faye! Will you stop a sec?" he demanded from behind her and he sounded close.

Faye plopped down into the seat, allowing the pod to seal shut once more and she merely stared at Spike as he came to a stop before her, arms falling at his sides wearily. He sent her a look, one that blatantly stated, 'Will you come out?' and she clenched her jaw, flicking small buttons and starting up the Redtail. With one flick she turned on the communications and shouted, "There's nothing to talk about!"

Spike grimaced as her voice came loud and clear in the hangar. A moment later he stepped back, recoiling, as the Redtail came to life, air blowing roughly around the small ship as she prepared it to take off. His hair was shoved sharply and he lifted a hand, eyes narrowed angrily as the Redtail lifted off.

She didn't want to hear it at all.

_You're lucky we're in the atmosphere_.

Pointing her remote down to the end of the hangar, the far wall unlatched with a sharp clang and slowly began to rise, letting in the brilliant late morning sunlight. Spike looked over as Faye directed the Redtail, pushing off from the floor. And without sparing him a glance she took off, flying out through the rising wall, barely clearing it and then sailing out into the blue sky.

Spike remained, his hand falling back to his side, the corner of his mouth twisting impatiently at her departure.

"Hate women with attitudes…"

"Ok, so the Golden Chip…" Faye shouted over the loud rock music that blasted out of the arcade she stood in front of. "Aces and what else?"

Ed's face wavered a bit in the small palmheld communication device she held. "The Full House!" she cried cheerfully and she giggled as Ein suddenly brushed up beside her, pink tongue wagging. "Ein, aww, Edward missed you, too!"

Faye attempted to stop her eyebrow from twitching, her eyes closing impatiently. "Ed! Focus here! What other casinos has he appeared at recently? In the last few days?"

Ed paused, pursing her lips. "Ed will check for you now!" she piped up. "Please hold!"

"Ed-"

"Ed, is that Faye?" came a familiar voice from behind Ed in the palmheld and Faye felt icy coldness inside at recognizing the voice.

"Hai! It's Faye-Faye!"

"Move over," came the second voice angrily and a moment later Spike's face appeared, carelessly tossing Ed over a step. "Faye!"

"Not right now, I'm busy," she growled through clenched teeth.

"We're going to have this fucking talk even if it means we're having it over this stupid computer!" he shouted furiously and behind him she could hear Ed speak faintly in the background.

"Tomato isn't stupid. Tomato is special."

"There's nothing to talk about!" Faye fairly shrieked at him, her hand clenching at her side. All around people bustled about and none of them paid her a bit of attention. It was one thing she was happy about. "You already gave your piece and I have accepted that you don't have a damn clue what you're talking about! So clear the airwaves, I have a bounty to track down!"

Spike's eyes closed, impatience creasing lines in his forehead. "Where are you?" he asked very slowly.

"Away from you! Now put Ed back on!"

"Ed is here!" Ed cried and she shoved Spike aside as she fit her face into the screen. "Black Jack likes to visit The Straight Flush, the Queen of Kings and Deuces Wild!"

"Who the hell is Black Jack?" Spike was heard asking curiously.

"Which casino was he in last?" Faye asked.

"Erm…The Straight Flush! And the last one before that was Aces, and then Deuces Wild and-"

"He's working his way south," Spike murmured off-screen.

Yes, he most definitely was, Faye noted as she looked at a small directory of casinos. When she had worked a casino, the first time she had met Spike, she had memorized the locations of all the casinos, scoping out the area any chance she had gotten. The first opportunity to run she would have gladly taken.

But then she wouldn't have met Spike. And at the moment she couldn't remember why meeting him had been such a good thing.

"All right, Ed, I'm signing off. I'll check in again tomorrow! Tell Jet to call up his pal at the ISSP to tell them I'm bringing in a bounty under his name, that way I can just walk out with the money, ok?"

"Aren't we counting our chickens…" drawled Spike.

"Hai!" Ed sang.

And with that she cut off the communication, struggling against the vein looking to burst in her head. He was such a royal pain sometimes. Why had she fallen for him? And when had it actually happened that she hadn't been awake to stop it? That would be the last time she let her body operate on autopilot. Autopilot got her into too many problems. She tucked away the handheld communicator and dug into her pocket, pulling forth her box of cigarettes. They would be the death of her one day.

Hopefully sooner than later.


	6. Black Jack and Poker Alice

**Black Jack and Poker Alice**

* * *

_Kyonen saigo no yuki no hi_

_kataku kawashita yakusoku_

_omoidaseba tokedashi te no hira kara koborete..._

_- -_

_The day of last year's final snow,_

_The promises that were hard to exchange,_

_When I remember them, they melt and spill from my hands_

* * *

Jet looked around as he handed a plate to Spike, bell peppers sizzling. "It's awfully quiet around here," he murmured and he looked at his feet where Ein was panting, wagging his tail. "Hey there, boy…"

"It is quiet, isn't it?" Spike sighed, stretched out on the couch, a book open over his face. He reached out and smoothly caught the plate and merely held it as he moved the book aside. "Sometimes the quiet is a very good thing."

"Where's the kid?" Jet asked.

"Fishing…somewhere…"

"We're in space, Spike."

Spike paused. "Whoa. Hope she's not fishing, then…"

And Jet looked around once more, moving back toward the kitchen. "Is Faye still locked up in her room?"

"Her room?" Spike glanced at him. "Faye took off awhile ago," he responded and he rose into a sitting position, lifting the chopsticks and poking at the bell peppers suspiciously. "Where's the beef?"

"Never said there was beef. And Faye took off?" Jet shook his head to understand.

"Mmm-hmmm," Spike nodded in the affirmative as he chomped down on a piece of pepper. "Something about a bounty." And he glanced up at Jet. "This is a good thing, Jet. No Faye, no stealing of the funds."

"She didn't tell me anything."

Ed suddenly flew into the room, down the steps leading into the back corridor, her arms up and guiding her passage down the clunky steps and onto the floor at Spike's feet, Tomato balanced on her head. "Ed was fishing! And Ed is hungry now," she said and she looked at Jet expectantly.

"What were you fishing for, Ed?" Jet sighed.

"Information," Ed replied and the look on her face turned pleading.

"All right then, come on. Bring Ein, he's giving me the same look," Jet said gruffly and he motioned to Spike as well. "We need to talk."

"About what?" Spike asked through a mouthful of peppers but he rose nonetheless and followed the group to the kitchen, pushing peppers around his plate.

"What bounty did she go looking for?"

"Does it matter?" Spike asked with an impatient sigh and he leaned against the kitchen wall as Ed hopped over to the stove and stared gleefully at the peppers sizzling in the pan.

"It matters if I didn't authorize it," Jet replied, looking for a clean plate. He shoved Ed a bit. "Get Ein's bowl."

"You authorize bounties now?" Spike asked with an arched brow.

"Since you left, yeah," he answered. "We don't need to be mixed up in any Syndicate business. Didn't need any of your old friends coming up to bite us in the ass, either. We had a system going and it's not like her to just go off on her own like this."

"My old friends?" Spike asked and there was a bit of a dark tone in his voice.

"You know what old friends I'm talking about, Spike, don't start. If you can survive there's no reason why others couldn't have survived," he said and he handed Ed a plate that she quickly snatched with an, "Edward is hungry!" and took to the refrigerator with.

Spike glared as Ed shoved him aside to reach in and take out a can of dog food. "Hold on a sec, Jet. You're not telling me the whole story. What's going on?"

"There's nothing to tell," Jet said brusquely and he was already holding out his hand for the can as Ed returned with it. "The bowl, Ed."

"Bullshit," Spike spat as the hacker went to the other side of the kitchen, searching. He lowered his stare to Jet's hands as he opened the can and then met his eyes as the older man looked at him. "You knew."

Jet ignored him as he turned toward Ed.

"You knew I was alive this whole time."

Even Ed slowed a bit as he said it, her amber eyes flying from Spike to Ed and then to Ein as the dog waited impatiently.

"Yeah, so what if I did?" Jet grumbled and he snatched the bowl from Ed.

"You didn't say anything..?" Spike asked with a narrowing of his eyes. "To anyone?"

"Only Ed knew other than me," he replied and Ed played with her feet uncomfortably as Jet turned the dog food into the bowl and handed the bowl back to the hacker. With a sigh he turned to face Spike, meeting his eyes. "A few days after you and the Syndicate guys wreaked havoc they pulled your body out. I have a buddy with the ISSP and I made sure to say that it be widely known that you were dead. I didn't want you to keep yourself mixed up in the whole mess. But you were alive, Spike. And you were tossed around, from hospital to hospital under a false name until you recovered." He paused. "Which reminds me, your hospital bill actually rivals Faye's now. Good luck there, buddy." And he turned to go back toward the living room.

"My _what?!"_ Spike demanded and he followed after the bigger man. "Hold on, we are so not done with this conversation."

With a sigh Jet plopped himself down in the seat as Spike returned to his rightful place on the couch. "So, only you and Ed. And you guys never told _her?!"_

Jet shook his head. "Nope. After you recovered you were just gone one day and I figured it was because you finally decided to leave it all behind. The Syndicate, the problems. The Bebop. It was just what I believed and I wasn't about to stop you. And I told Faye that you were dead since that day. It was the only way she wouldn't go looking for you to see for herself. I told her I had buddies with the ISSP and that they had discovered your body and that you were nice and dead and that your body wouldn't make for a pretty picture. She took it, hook, line and sinker." And he bowed his head as he said it. "But it took her a while to get over it."

Spike ignored the last sentence. "So what's with authorizing the bounties?"

Jet nodded. "There are a lot of bounties out on Syndicate members. I didn't need her coming across the fact that you were alive. I was sure you were gone, that you wouldn't be coming back. It was how she got over it and it was how I was going to keep going. When Ed came back I started having her look up the bounties again and she kept coming across you, in whatever hospital you were at, whatever name you were under. And one day there was suddenly a bounty on you for running from a hospital and leaving a bill the size of the Bebop. That was months ago. So I told Ed the truth about everything and now she only looks for certain bounties, and we only go after ones I authorize."

Spike took a moment to respond and when he did he merely whistled. "Interesting system," he murmured.

"It was how it needed to be," Jet said. "I wasn't going to drag you back. You spent too long in the trenches anyway, you needed to start over and be yourself. But I didn't need Faye finding out either and going after you to drag you back. It was too much for her to get over the fact, and then to have it all go to shit would have been worse. So she needed to think you were dead and I needed to run a damn ship." He shook his head. "Your popping up here didn't make it easier, though."

"Yeah, I see," Spike agreed. And then, sheepishly, "sorry."

Jet chuckled quietly. "Maybe some things do change after all, eh, Spike? It's not everyday you say sorry."

Spike looked at him thoughtfully. "Yeah, some things do change." And he leaned back on the couch, picking at his plate. "Your bell peppers don't."

"It's a recipe passed down through the generations. Some spices, a bit of butter and a whole lot of lies," Jet smiled. And he looked toward Ed. "Show me the bounty, Ed. The one you gave to Faye."

Ed glanced up from her plate, giving Ein the opportunity to gobble up several peppers from her plate. "The bounty for Faye-Faye?" she asked and she rolled forward, managing to roll her way between the tight space between the table and the couch. Spike lifted his legs to allow her to pass, chewing on a pepper, and the hacker paused before Tomato. "Black Jack, Black Jack."

"Black Jack?" Jet asked. "Is that the bounty?"

Ed pulled up the file and pointed to the face. "Black Jack."

Together both Jet and Spike leaned in for a closer look. "Mid-thirties, 6'2", 180lbs…" Jet murmured as he read, Spike more intent on finishing his food but looking on nonetheless. "Has a degree from the University in Boston…Earth's Boston?" Jet asked in confusion. "Who would want to study on Earth anymore? It doesn't say when he graduated."

"Look at the major," Spike whistled again.

"Cryogenics," Jet read. "So, how does a guy go from studying cryogenics to owning all these casinos?" He motioned to the list.

Spike pointed at something in the stats. "Worked on cryogenics for Quicksilver Cryo on Mars for a few years before going into casinos. I guess he saw the beauty of owning casinos. Maybe it made him more money that cryogenics."

"No date of birth," Jet read on. "No parents, no siblings. No anything-"

"Wait, Quicksilver Cryo…" Spike murmured to himself with a frown. "That sounds really familiar. But it's not like I would ever have been to a place like that. Sounds boring. So why does it…"

Jet stared at him for a moment too long before whirling on Ed. "Ed!"

The hacker was already typing, bringing up a page of lists and then pausing on a listing. Spike continued to mumble in the background. "Quicksilver…Cryo…"

"Quicksilver Cryo is on the list of facilities owned by the Syndicate," Jet exhaled and he rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Ed-"

"Edward didn't know," the hacker shrugged.

"You need to cross-check these things, Ed!" Jet snapped and he rose from his seat, storming over toward the back corridor.

"Where are you going?" Spike called after him.

"Where else? To get that stupid woman back," Jet growled over his shoulder, climbing the steps.

"Are you for real?" Spike asked, staring at him. "She probably won't find out from this. He's wanted for crap like embezzling and…whatever else-"

"Conspiracy to commit murder," Ed piped up.

"I don't need her on my ass about this! You know what she's like when she's mad! We've actually had some good moments here since you left! She actually stopped bitching! I don't need her to go back to the way she used to be-"

"She didn't seem all that different to me-" Spike retorted.

"Because you've been dead to her," Jet said, pausing at the top of the staircase. "Now that you're back she'll probably go back to bitching and making a nuisance of herself. Thanks a lot, Spike."

"Hey! Don't blame me for this!" Spike shouted at him as he turned into the corridor.

"Watch the kid and feed the dog if I'm not back in time," Jet called back to him. And he paused. "You do know how to cook, don't you?"

Spike looked from Ed to Ein and he was not surprised to see that they seemed to have the exact same look on their faces. "Uh…" he said quickly and he rose, "how about I go look for her and you stay and cook?" he suggested, backing away from Ed and Ein.

"Because it means going back to Mars. Aren't you dead on Mars?" Jet asked, his face heavy with sarcasm.

"Sure, but that's never stopped me before," Spike said and he floated down the hallway to his room as Jet came back into the main room.

"I'm not sure I like that idea, Spike," Jet called to him.

"Yeah, me neither but this isn't the first time we've disagreed on anything. And those always came out ok, right?" Spike smiled at him from the door of his room.

Jet sighed.

* * *

Two days and nothing. Two long days and nothing. Faye was ready to throw something. She had checked out all the casinos in the last two days, walking about, fighting against the urge to throw the little woolong that she had on the table and betting it all away. And still Black Jack was nowhere in sight. She hated this part of the bounty hunting. Staking out places was not her strong point. Moving in for the kill was. She looked at herself in the mirror, admiring the low cut evening gown she had conveniently managed to borrow from a clothing store. It fit her perfectly in all the right places, accentuating all her curves and baring just enough soft flesh to have every male in the street ogle her. She loved the feeling, the feeling of being wanted, desired.

_I can get every guy to want me except the guy I want the most…_

She twisted her lips impatiently and turned away from the mirror, tying up her soft purple hair and securing it at the crown of her head. She looked good enough to kill. She had already spoken to Ed about getting that camera. If anything it would be useful to her. She could take a picture of herself now so that when she was old and fat she could look back and reminisce. "Oh, who am I kidding?" she sighed, running her hands down the sides of her thighs. "I'm never going to get old and fat."

Tonight she would hit The Poker Table, a lavish, well-renowned casino and, damn it all, she would come out on the arm of Black Jack.

Even if she had to follow him to the ends of the earth.

* * *

She was ready to start singing some blues. She gazed up at the starless night, coming out onto a balcony. The Poker Table was full of people and it was starting to get hot in there. The cigarette smoke itself was starting to get to her and that was a first. Usually she was pretty good with cigarette smoke and alcohol. At the moment she was sure she was going to start coming down with a headache. She sighed inwardly and, not for the first time, wished she was back home on earth.

_"Do your best, do you best! Me, me, me!"_

The day her memory had come back she had laid herself down on the earth that had once been her home and she had gazed up at the sky with tears in her eyes. Tears for her lost past. The moon had been beautiful still, even with her chunks strewn about the sky like asteroids. She could remember a day when the moon had been intact and had shone brilliantly. There was no moon in the sky here and yet, it still somehow felt like earth.

And she missed it all still.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?"

She stiffened and looked over her shoulder to see who had spoken and she found herself face to face with a handsome man and a wry smile. She hesitated, her eyes focusing, and for a moment she was stunned.

_Mr. Black Jack…looks a lot like Spike…why am I always confusing bounties with Spike?!_

He stood a little over six feet, with a lean but sturdy frame. Black hair and deep brown eyes completed the look. He arched an eyebrow as she continued to merely gape at him and she suddenly returned to herself, looking back up. "Yes, beautiful," she murmured, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

_Wake up, Faye!_

"But…not as beautiful as you," he said quietly and she brought her eyes back down to meet his once more. The compliment seemed absolutely genuine, another gesture that brought the crimson flush to her cheeks even more powerfully. His gaze traveled down to her cheek and her jaw, trailing down her long neck and she marveled at the fact that his gaze did not drop further. Most men would have been checking out her cleavage by this point. Instead he lifted his gaze upwards once more and smiled yet again.

Faye blinked at him. "I'm sorry," she said and her tone instantly became demure as she remembered what her purpose had been before she had so suddenly been woken up. "My mind has been distant the entire day…" and she fanned herself delicately.

He gazed at her intently, silent for a moment before reaching out for her. She looked down as he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "I apologize, I'm so rude. My name is Jack," he murmured as he left a lingering kiss on the back of her hand.

Faye drew in a shaky breath but managed a smile. "Faye," she responded and she stared at him as he lowered her hand away but maintained a grip on it.

"Faye, you are very beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?" he asked in a husky voice, merely returning her gaze. His eyes were a dark brown, a vaguely familiar dark brown. But his eyes weren't as beautiful as the other person-

_Who will remain unnamed!_

She smiled again, shoving the thought aside. "I've been told that before but…coming from you it somehow has a different significance," she answered and she watched him as he beamed, straightening a bit before her.

_Score!_

"Miss Faye, may I take you to dinner?" he asked her politely. "I'm afraid I have dinner arrangements but, if you agree, they will quite conveniently be canceled…" he broke off, his charming smile throwing her a bit.

Faye hesitated and she shifted her leg a bit, feeling the Glock model 30 attached to the inside of her thigh. It brushed against her other thigh as she moved, which would have to do because with the dress she couldn't wear the weapon on the outside of her thigh. "I barely know you," she said quietly and her smile turned sensuous, her voice low and throaty.

He leaned into her a bit, lowering his own voice. "That is what dinner is for," he murmured and his eyes shifted down to her mouth.

She dropped her gaze to his mouth as well. "It seems you're already looking at dinner," she said to him and she turned her face away, looking out into the night once more, gazing at the bright lights of the casinos all around.

He chuckled in her ear, a warm breath brushing her cooled skin. "I admit, I'm rather…famished," he said slowly and she felt his fingers brush a lock of her hair behind her ear. How had that miserable little lock escaped her bun? She shivered faintly before meeting his eyes once more.

"Dinner would be wonderful," she replied softly. And as he offered his arm to her she took it and allowed him to lead her.

* * *

Dinner had been heavenly. They had been driven to a small French restaurant by a very nice chauffeur and she had dined on beef. Real beef. She could have died happily when they had been served and Black Jack's manners had been impeccable. She couldn't believe it. A handsome, well-mannered man with a bounty on his head.

_Conspiracy to commit murder?_

She sighed up into the night, feeling more alive in that moment than she had felt in the last few months. The air somehow tasted sweeter as she breathed it in, the night cool and yet comfortable. And his suit jacket around her shoulders was heavy but warm and smelled like his cologne and his cigarettes. They always seemed to smoke, the ones that she fell for. Except for that first one that had left her saddled with debts. Had he been a smoker? She couldn't remember. She fought the smirk that threatened to break out over her face.

"What are you thinking?" he asked her as they sat together on the hood of the gorgeous car he seemed to own. It was in the style of the old limousines. Faye hadn't seen one in years, quite literally, and her face had been dumbfounded when he had pulled up in one. It had been sweet to sit on the car even with the way they were dressed. It brought her back to days on earth, on dates with boys, gazing at the moon before the disaster. It reminded her of one date in particular, a boy with blond hair and clear blue eyes. She couldn't remember his name but he had loved Jazz. He had gotten her into Jazz. What was his name..?

The chauffeur had been conveniently dismissed for a few hours after dinner and Black Jack had driven them himself to this small neglected spot. So quiet in the night.

"I'm thinking…" she whispered slowly, "that the moon was beautiful before the gate disaster," she answered.

He blinked at her. "The moon was…_Earth's_ moon?" he asked haltingly, breaking off.

Faye nodded. "Yes. It was gorgeous…" and she stopped herself, cold shivers racing down her frame. "I mean, from what I saw of it! Old movies and…and pictures-"

"Yes, yes, of course-" Jack nodded quickly that he understood.

_Eeeek!_

Faye nearly dropped her head into her palm. She really needed to get back into the whole bounty-hunting thing. Damn it, she knew this would happen. Ever since Spike had reappeared he was on her mind constantly, distracting her from doing a simple bounty hunt correctly. She needed to stop thinking about him, needed to set herself straight, if only for this job. She looked at the man beside her, suddenly wishing it was Spike, and she smiled at him faintly. "I need to be getting home," she lied. She actually needed to be getting out of the dress and into her comfortable yellow vinyl. And she needed to get to a bar and down a few drinks. Maybe get a massage. She didn't know if any spas were open at night but this was Mars' hotspot, there had to be some places open still.

"I see," Jack said but he made no move to rise from the hood. "Where would you like me to drop you off?"

Faye paused at the question, thinking quickly. "Maybe the main avenue, close to the French restaurant, actually. I live close by there, I wouldn't mind the walk home, clear my head a bit," she answered.

"You have a lot on your mind?" he asked her curiously.

_Always._

"Tonight I do," she replied and she smiled coyly at him.

He returned her smile and only then lifted a hand to her face, pressing his palm to her cheek. She stared at him, eyes widening, and when he leaned into her she didn't pull away. His kiss was soft, gentle, and she held herself stiff, fighting the urge to recoil. She should have enjoyed a kiss like this, it was rare that someone was so gentle with her. And to top it off a gentleman who took her out to dinner, who spoke to her and treated her like a real person, not a piece of meat. And someone who didn't insult her every hour of every damn day.

But she couldn't enjoy his kiss. She couldn't enjoy his presence, his warmth. And even behind her closed eyelids she couldn't even seem to bring the image of his face up. Someone else's face continued to pop up and it infuriated her.

He pulled away from her, his head bowing, and she also bowed her head, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips as his hand trailed away from her face.

"There is someone else," he stated and he sounded disappointed.

Faye swallowed, averting her eyes from his, wanting the iciness in her stomach to go away. "There is…" she murmured, "and there isn't."

Jack raised his head to her, tilting it in what seemed to be confusion. But as she finally met his gaze he understood and his hand paused midway through drawing away. "He…doesn't love you," he guessed and it was a damn good guess.

Faye smiled at him wryly. "You, sir, win the jackpot," she joked.

He wasn't amused. "But you love him," he said firmly.

"At the moment, no. I'm a bit too angry with him to love him."

Jack's eyes were soft as he gazed at her. "In love, even anger is acceptable. Were you with him long?"

Faye hesitated then, thoughtfully. "Actually, he and I used to work together. And then one day he left to figure out some problems, right a few wrongs, and I begged him not to go but he went anyway. And I didn't hear from him for months. I thought he was dead and the whole time he was just…not around," she explained. She nodded as she broke off, gazing at him and seeing herself reflected in his dark eyes.

He waited for her to continue, his expression one of thoughtfulness.

She blinked, turning her eyes away and looking back at the night sky, seeing stars. "He came back just recently and that very day we had ourselves a fight. He just came back and already we were fighting. And I guess some things just don't change but I wanted…something. I wanted him to say something, explain where he had been, why he had gone alone, why he hadn't come back for so long. And I wanted to hear him say that maybe…that maybe…" and she shook her head slowly, laughing at herself.

"That maybe he missed you?"

"That maybe he missed me," she echoed him solemnly, absentmindedly, gazing at the stars but seeing nothing. "That maybe he had come back for me. That he had thought of me while he had been away. But he didn't. He…was the same person as when he had first left and…"

_And he's going to kill me this way. I'm going to burn away until I burn out, always waiting for him._

"Isn't that first person the one you fell in love with anyway?" Jack asked her quietly. "Would you really still have loved him if he had come back differently?"

Faye mused over that for a long moment, silently. Would she still love Spike if he had come back a changed person? If he was not as carefree, not as biting with his remarks, not as humorous with his jokes? Would she still have loved him if he had come back dark and traumatized? If he had returned softer and somehow romantic?

"I think I would love him any way he ended up being," she murmured. "It's just that…he wouldn't love me." And she forced a smile, wanting to weep inside. She felt the familiar itching in her nose, the warmth of the coming tears and she inhaled deeply, knowing it would help force away the tears.

But silently, Jack reached for her once more, turning her face to his and he kissed her yet again, more of a desperate kiss than the first one had been. And she found that she could hold herself together for a single moment before finally shoving away the image of Spike's face and surrendering herself to his kiss. She deserved a moment of happiness, didn't she? A single kiss without having a face haunt her even in her daydreams?

And above, the stars twinkled sorrowfully.

* * *


	7. One Good Turn

Chapter 7: One Good Turn..

She had found it. A nice spa that was open even in the early hours of the morning because the way the night had concluded, she wouldn't have been able to sleep until at least the following night. She practically floated and felt as if she was drowning, all at once. It was the strangest, most confusing feeling in the world.

The girl tending to her back was quiet, the only sounds she made the small brush of her hands trailing over Faye's bare skin, massaging away the tension in her shoulders. It felt good to allow someone else to tend to her. She needed it because she was a bit weak in the knees, not in the right mode to care for herself. She had definitely found Black Jack and he had definitely swept her off her feet.

Now she just had to turn him in.

But a guy like that couldn't really have done all that stuff they're saying he did. Insurance fraud? He seemed like the richest guy in the world. Embezzlement? Well, ok, maybe that was why he seemed like the richest guy in the world. But conspiracy to murder..?

"Would you like a scented oil?" the girl asked her quietly, pausing in mid-rub.

Faye was brought out of her thoughts for a moment. "Mmm, scented. What kind of scents do you have?" she asked.

"We have Rose oil, Venus Poppy, Honeycomb, Martian Lilac, Lavender, Ylang-ylang…"

"Rose sounds fine," Faye yawned. And she listened as the girl excused herself momentarily. Finally a moment alone to think.

She shifted on the small cot under her, half nude. She had wanted to stay at least partly covered but now she was regretting it. She wanted the feel of silk on every part of her body, which would have meant no underwear. With a sigh she stretched out once more on her stomach, thoughtful. Would she really be able to hand in Black Jack? He was one of the sweetest men she had met in a long time. Not that that couldn't have been a little play put on just for her but he had even listened to her go on about Spike. Which was something she swore she would never do again. Since when had she ever told anyone her business like that?

Since when had anyone ever really cared about her business, rather?

The girl returned quietly, shifting in the background of her thoughts and she sighed inwardly once more, folding her arms under her chin and settling. Black Jack could get her three million woolongs. Three million. Maybe she could string him along, allow him to take her out to dinner a few more times, eat real food until she decided to retire back to the Bebop. It had been a long time since she had been on a real date, complete with dinner and drinks. She should drag it all out for as long as she could.

The girl applied some oil to her back, stopping after a moment. And then she poked her in the back. Faye frowned into the crook of her arm, shifting, and the girl poked her again as if uncertain. "Ow…watch it," Faye growled at her, her tone muffled. "I'm not paying you to _stab_ me-"

The poke came one more time before the girl finally just hesitated. And then she began to tend to her back again, fingers trailing across her tense muscles and she could smell the oil. It felt so good to let someone else care for her. She wanted someone to care for her like this.

_Someone like Spike?_

She swallowed the snort she felt rising up. Yeah, someone like Spike. Someone who would run off whenever their dead lover rose from the dead to haunt them just a little longer. Someone who would happily, with eyes wide open, waltz into death. Someone who didn't care one way or another for their life.

Someone who would always walk away from her no matter how often she begged.

She bowed her head into her arms, forcing herself to give in to the massage, toss away all thoughts concerning him. She needed to focus on this damned bounty! She needed to prove herself to Jet that just because Mr_. I'm Back From the Dead, What's For Dinner?_ was around again it didn't necessarily mean he could reclaim the top bounty hunter spot. She had worked her ass off, trained herself to be better, to bring in the bounties, to keep the Bebop afloat alongside Jet. She had handled most of the bounty hunting herself, Jet usually staying behind to man the Bebop, make repairs. Yeah, it had been hard when Spike had originally abandoned them. She had realized that she couldn't mooch off them anymore, she had to do all the work now. And she had taken on that task, whining and screaming, but she had.

He had no right to come back like this. No right.

The girl moved down her back a bit, keeping close to her ribs, kneading her flesh, poking at her every once in a while, which really was becoming rather infuriating. But she wanted her to move lower, toward the very base of her spine, where a lot of her tension seemed to be harboring. "Can you move lower?" she asked in a muffled tone, her head in her arms.

The hands paused before moving down. And then came the masculine voice, drawling lazily, "So the question is, do I want to be here for this?" and the girl tugged at the towel covering her rear.

With a gasp Faye rose, looking over her shoulder, and sure enough, Spike smiled at her wryly from beside her, leaning beside the cot. The girl stood between him and Faye and she had the towel by the edge, her eyes wide as she looked from Faye to Spike. Faye hastily snatched the towel to her figure, wrapping it around her chest and pulling in her legs to rise to her feet.

"What the hell are you _doing_ here?" she demanded and she looked down at his hands, ignoring the girl entirely as she took a step away to pull herself out of the way of fire. He had a bit of oil on his fingertips and she suddenly knew where all the pokes had come from.

He reached to the bottom of the towel she had wrapped around her and he wiped his hands as if he had been making repairs to his damned Swordfish II. Not a care in the world. "I figure I'd come down, keep myself under the radar, take this bounty off your hands," he shrugged.

Faye stared at him. "You'd _what?"_

Spike straightened, studying his fingers and he brought a hand up to his face, sniffing it. "I don't think I like roses anymore," he said, his expression one of distaste.

Faye's lips parted, her mind whirling, not a damn thing making sense.

_I'm dreaming. I have to be. This whole fucking thing, from the beginning, has been a damned dream! There's no other explanation for it!_

Her eyes shifted away blindly, dumbly.

Spike looked at her once more, hands dropping to his sides again. "So, this is nice," he said with a small smile, motioning to her. "I thought you were going after a bounty."

"I _am,_" Faye stressed and she looked at him once more. "What in the…_geez,_ what are you _doing _here?" she asked again, not able to keep her thoughts from screaming passed her, screaming at her. There was a cacophonic mess of voices in her head and she couldn't hear her own above them.

"I just told you," he said impatiently. "But if I'm getting in your way then feel free to hitchhike back to the Bebop. I can handle this alone."

She glared. "Handle what? The bounty? It's _my_ bounty, you idiot! I had Ed look it up for me, I can _handle_ it-"

"Like you did last night? I'm sure," he nodded, his face becoming serious.

She stared at him in confusion. And it hit her then, that he knew about her date, about Black Jack. And all the voices in her head suddenly dwindled down to a high-pitched shriek that resembled the whistle of silence. "You…were _spying_ on me?" she asked faintly, in disbelief.

"Don't flatter yourself," he said coldly and he gestured to the girl. "Are you paying her or what? You've wasted enough time," and as she made no move to pay the girl he sighed and motioned the attendant closer. As she came Faye merely stared at her, dumbfounded. "Does it normally take you this long to take down a bounty?" he asked, reaching into his pocket.

Faye watched him as he pulled out a money card and then accepted one the girl handed him, transferring money over to hers. And once that was done he handed the card back, putting his own away and pulling out a box of cigarettes at the same time. He questioned the girl silently and she nodded that it was fine for him to smoke. And realizing Faye hadn't answered his question he turned a bored look on her.

She stared at him, then at the girl as the girl retreated apologetically. And she turned away, reaching for her clothes silently. She was going to scream. She was going to scream and she was going to keep screaming until her throat was raw, until she couldn't scream anymore. And then she would scream some more. Of all the insanity, all the purely _evil_ things that could happen, why did they all have to happen the moment he returned? Why couldn't she turn around without seeing his face, without having him hound her and appear at the worst of situations?

For a moment she wished he had stayed dead and gone.

And the thought made her stiffen, made her stop digging through her clothes. She merely stared at her clothes folded neatly, her hand shaking.

"This isn't a good bounty for you," he said to her back. "I'll take it."

"Get your own," she murmured and as he paused she turned on him. "Get your own, _damn it!_ Get your own bounty! Get your own life! Get someone else's life to _ruin!_ Just stop trying to ruin _mine!"_ she cried and the attendant recoiled, face paling at her sudden anger. "And _you,"_ she shouted at the girl, "get the hell _out_ of here!"

Wordlessly, the girl scampered, slamming the door shut behind her.

Spike looked off in the way she had gone, silent for a moment. And then he lit his cigarette with a match, inhaling deeply for a moment before pointing after the attendant. "Should I have paid her at all? I didn't even get a massage. Now I'm beginning to think maybe I shouldn't have-"

Faye whirled away from him and dropped the towel, no longer caring. With short, angry movements she pulled on her clothes, yanking on the classic yellow vinyl, the white boots, letting down her hair and securing it back with the headband. And then she turned to face Spike, who hadn't moved from his spot, curling smoke rising from his mouth. Silently she floated close to him until she stood before him and he tilted his head at her suspiciously as she averted her eyes before him. And then, very slowly, she sat on the cot beside him, her side brushing his.

"Are we friends?" she asked him quietly.

He hesitated. "Are you going to bum a cigarette off me?"

"Spike." She did not sound amused.

He pursed his lips at the question. "I'm not sure. I tend to not like friends. They get you into trouble. They get angry with you when you take something that belongs to them. And they come after you with long swords-"

"I'm asking you not to come back into my life and make things difficult," she said to him softly and he paused, frowning faintly at how gently she spoke. "I'm asking you to not take away everything I've worked hard for. Because you can do it really easily, you've always been able to."

He stared at her, his cigarette clutched in his fingers.

"This bounty is mine. I need it to prove myself," she explained to him. "To prove to myself that I can still go at it alone. That I haven't lost my touch." She lifted her eyes to meet his finally and she asked, "Can I have this bounty?"

Spike's lips parted silently, seemingly at a loss for words. And then, still wordlessly, his lips met in a firm line and he nodded.

Faye's smile was almost non-existent and without another word she rose and she left the room, her head bowed.

Spike stared after her, his hand lifting the cigarette to his mouth. "Well, what do you know…" How strange that Faye Valentine actually had a serious side, could actually plead, and without throwing in some of her infamous whining. It was the first time that she had been serious with him, other than the day he had left. That side of her was grown up, mature. Serious. And-

He rose thoughtfully and only then felt how light his pocket felt. With a frown he patted his pocket down and then he patted his legs down, searching for his money card only to find it gone.

"That _bitch!"_ he swore furiously.


	8. Beefy Bounty

**Chapter 8: Beefy Bounty**

Faye paced a bit in worry. He was late. Was he normally late? She couldn't be sure, this was the first time she had ever met him for a date. What if he was late because Spike had caught him and turned him in for the money? He was her bounty, damn it!

The casino was crowded inside, people passing by on their way to and from the grand entrances. In the night she seemed innocent enough, dressed for a quiet evening, waiting for her significant other. But she had her weapon strapped to her thigh. She was ready for this. She looked about, eyes scanning the few ships and cars stationed in their respective spots. But no sleek limo, no distinguished man in the darkness. She paced a bit more, wishing she didn't have such high heels. If she found out Spike had had anything to do with this, even after their talk the night before-

"Faye!"

She whirled and Black Jack swept out of the casino quickly, his dark hair tousled, dressed in a business suit. She was struck once more at how familiar he was, his height and his hair. "I am so sorry! I was tending to some business and it ran late, I'm terribly sorry-"

She smiled coyly at him as he reached her and enveloped her in a tight embrace. "Business in the casinos?" she asked but then passed the question by, exhaling in his embrace as he held her for a long moment. Such a warm embrace. When was the last time someone had embraced her like that? "I thought you had forgotten," she lied against his neck, knowing full well she had just about started panicking. "I was about to go in and just gamble away all my money-"

"Not at all," he said to her and he pulled away to leave a lingering kiss on her lips. He tasted like brandy, a sweet alcohol that left her craving a drink for herself. "I say we gamble all _my_ money away..." he joked, gazing at her and lifting a hand to sweep errant locks from her face.

_Not a bad idea at all..._

"I haven't eaten yet and I'm starving," Jack said to her and he turned, leading her into the casino, one arm wrapping around her waist comfortably, as if it belonged there. "There's a small French restaurant inside if you'd like to take a quick bite. Yesterday you seemed to like French so why-"

"Careful," came a soft masculine voice from behind them, drawling in disinterest. "She'll eat you out of your entire embezzled fortune."

Jack came to a stop, a small frown crossing his forehead and Faye quickly looked over her shoulder, also coming to a stop.

_He wouldn't-_

Spike smiled in the darkness, taking a drag of his cigarette, one hand comfortably shoved into his pocket from where he stood only a few feet away. His blue suit hung open over his yellow shirt comfortably, the tie loose around his neck and Faye realized he looked too comfortable and too mischievous for it to result in anything good.

Her mood immediately soured. "What are you _doing?"_ she hissed at him angrily, her free hand at her side clenching into a fist.

"I'm about to take down a bounty," he replied with his trademark impish smile, motioning to Jack.

Faye pulled free of Jack's arm, taking a step in Spike's direction. "We went over this! He's _my_ bounty! _I'm _bringing him in-"

"Faye-" Jack uttered in disbelief, looking at her quickly as if to prove he had heard correctly. And he looked at Spike, his face darkening as Faye stared at him stiffly, the anger practically radiating from her.

"Was this before or after you stole all my money?" Spike asked with a twitching brow, and he flicked ash, his one hand in the pocket clenching. "How long is it going to take you, anyway? We're starving, have a little common courtesy. Just because he feeds you doesn't mean he feeds _us!"_ he motioned over his shoulder with his cigarette and Faye could only guess the Bebop was stationed somewhere in that direction. "Ed's a growing kid-"

"There is a _reason _we have Ein!" Faye shouted furiously. "And don't, for a _second_, act like you care about Ed!"

Spike opened his mouth to speak, managing to look indignant but at her maintained glare he merely shrugged in agreement and shut his mouth.

"Faye, you're a bounty hunter?" Jack asked her slowly, his eyes still focused on Spike. He stared the bounty hunter up and down, the expression on his face unrecognizable.

Faye looked back at him and behind her Spike said, "She tries to be." But he was staring at Black Jack as well, a small frown beginning to mar his face.

"Shut up, Spike," she growled over her shoulder. Looking at Jack, she said in a coy but disappointed tone, "I'm sorry it had to end this way, Jack. You were different from all the other bounties I've dated. You actually fed me," she sighed miserably. "I haven't eaten like that since-"

Faster than she thought possible he suddenly had a gun leveled at her forehead, the barrel pressed to the soft skin between her eyebrows.

Faye came to a dead stop, her breath catching in her throat. That had been fast, amazingly fast.

Behind her, Spike exhaled. "I knew it. Now look what you did," he mumbled. "This is going to take even longer now. Do you _hear_ my stomach?"

"Was any of it true?" Jack asked Faye quietly, staring her dead in her eyes over the barrel of the compact weapon he had placed to her forehead.

Behind her she was sure she heard Spike shift and Jack's eyes widened, looking in his direction quickly. Then he lowered his gaze to her face once more.

"Is that him, then?" he asked and his eyes shifted back toward Spike momentarily, studying the bounty hunter intently.

"Is that who?" Faye asked and something told her Spike had his own weapon leveled at Jack. She shifted a bit, feeling her Glock 30 between her thighs. She couldn't possibly reach it in the time it would take him to shoot off a round.

"The one who came back. The one you-"

"Shit, you _told_ him about me?" Spike asked in disbelief, although his disbelief sounded more like a bored afterthought.

Faye's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Had you not said anything I could have played it off as a lie," she mumbled darkly, feeling the familiar vein in her head throb. "Besides, weren't you eavesdropping on us yesterday?!"

"Not me," he answered swiftly from behind. "Besides, don't shift the blame to me. You've been a bad girl, Faye. I'm telling Jet."

"I could have made you happy," Jack said to her and behind her she heard Spike give a surprised, "Hmm?" at the expression on his face. "I still can."

Faye nodded at him slowly, only too aware of the gun pressed to her forehead. "Yes, you definitely could have. You and your money. But the bounty on you can help me start paying off my debts-"

"Yeah, right," Spike murmured and she could just see him taking a drag of his cigarette as he said it.

"Bite me, you stupid lunkhead," she snapped at him over her shoulder.

Spike snorted. "Not for all the woolong in the world," and he paused suddenly as he heard the very familiar engines of the Bebop off in the distance. He looked to the side slowly, listening intently.

"So it wasn't all a lie," Jack asked Faye quietly.

"Nope," Spike replied for her, turning his attention back to the matter at hand. "She would definitely have cleaned out your bank accounts."

Faye smiled uncomfortably at Jack, shrugging warily. "I like casinos," she confessed.

Jack's eyes narrowed thoughtfully at her, studying her with dark eyes. His eyes flew back toward Spike momentarily and then, with a sigh of defeat he said, "I understand, Faye Valentine."

Faye's eyes widened, a frown crossing her face and she felt, more than saw, that Spike had had the same reaction. A sound behind her warned her that he had floated closer.

"It's who you are, isn't it?" Jack continued, staring at her intently and the look on his face worried her the tiniest bit. He pushed the barrel of the gun into her forehead a bit more, causing her to grimace faintly. "Faye Valentine. There's a bounty on you as well, my dear."

"Six million," Spike said for her, seeing as how she stood a bit stunned. "Twice as much as you, Black Jack."

Jack smiled faintly at his familiar alias. "May I ask why she hasn't been brought in yet?"

Faye growled, realizing she had been left out of the conversation entirely.

"She's worth more to us out of custody," Spike answered in a serious tone and Faye blinked, actually turning her head to look at him over her shoulder.

He shrugged at her, a wry smile curling his lips and he did indeed have his Jericho pulled. "Well, actually, she eats all our food, steals our money, and she has this attitude half the time but who else can play the part of the whore better than her?"

She threw him a glare that could have frozen the lakes of hell.

"I see," Jack mused and Faye slowly turned her head back to face him. His eyes shifted to hers once more, lingering on her face. "I knew who you were. They call you Poker Alice. But I know all about you, Faye Valentine."

Faye stood quietly, hesitant. "I didn't know I was well renowned..."

"I wanted you by my side," he murmured and he lifted his free hand to her face as well, his fingers trailing across her skin. She swallowed faintly, staring at him with a small frown as his fingers traced her lips, the barrel of the weapon pressing into her forehead. "From the very first moment, I wanted you. I could have given you all the money you desired, the jewels, the ships-"

"The beef..." she whined with him.

"And you don't even really know her. Now that's love," Spike said with a solemn nod.

Jack's glance shifted over to Spike. "You know what love is, do you not, Mr. Spiegel?" he asked him and Faye felt her frown deepen. She felt her stomach grow cold at Jack's voice, at the threat he had implied just by using Spike's full name. "You would go to the ends of the earth-"

"Faye, I suggest you tell your date to shut his mouth," Spike murmured in a very quiet tone and his tone seemed completely comfortable, jovial even. But the sudden anger in the air sparked enough to sting.

Faye didn't have to see his face to know he was angry. "You've done your homework on us," she stated, gazing at Jack as he gazed back. "Which is scaring me, actually…"

"More than you know," Jack said quietly. "For example, the moon, Faye? I'm sure she _was_ beautiful when you gazed at her. Whole. Undisturbed. Did she shine brilliantly?"

Faye's lips parted in disbelief. "W-what?"

"How was the cold storage?" Jack asked her faintly.

A small sound made it passed her lips and she took a step back. No one knew. No one. She had never actually told Jet and Spike had been an accidental eavesdropper the day she had spilled her story to the damned dog. Whatever they thought was on them. But this was…she felt a shiver in the warm night.

"Faye," Spike said behind her and she ignored him.

"How do you know?" she asked softly. "How-"

"Did you really think it was all about you chasing me down?" he asked her and she didn't question the thought that his voice had grown marginally colder. "Did I fool you into thinking _I_ was the real bounty?"

A glare crossed Faye's face even as the pained disbelief struggled to show through.

"Do you think I don't know that you live on the Bebop? That Jet Black was an ISSP officer before his little accident? That little Miss Edward's father is wandering the Earth still? Or that Mr. Spike Spiegel here used to be a member of a small organization called The Syndicate?" Jack smiled at her and she took a step back as he took that same step forward, his gun still aimed at her head. "I know more than you think." And his gaze shifted toward Spike. "I also know the way you think. I bet half my fortune Mr. Spiegel doesn't think you're worth all this trouble. Right, Spike?"

Spike's voice was soft and seemed uninterested. "You shouldn't talk to me like we're friends," he said to him. "I don't know you."

Faye didn't turn to look in Spike's direction, didn't let emotion through. "You're probably right, though," she murmured. "But then, not much matters to fuzzy head by way of people."

"Gee, thanks," came the lazy reply.

"It's the truth," she said and looking toward Spike she saw his eyebrow twitch, a sweat drop practically hanging off his head of green hair. "You don't care if I come or go, if I sleep all day, if I get myself killed. All you care about is money. Money and running out on us."

Impatience creased Spike's brow. "Are you aware you're standing in the way of two drawn guns?"

"And you only chase me down to make me miserable!" Faye continued, anger rising inside. "What do I have to do to get some kind of consideration-"

"Stop stealing my money, for one," Spike growled back at her. "Every time you leave the ship we hope it's the last time! That way at least we'll have _some_ kind of money-"

"Is it my fault I have a gambling hobby?!" she screamed.

"_Hobby?!"_

"You know I like all the fine things! I deserve it! As a woman, I should be paid to be beautiful! I _deserve_ to have men throwing themselves at my feet! I _deserve_ to be able to waste someone's money on the things I want!"

Spike's face was deadpan as he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, "Faye, you're in denial. Gambling is an addiction, you can get help for that-"

"And I _deserve-"_ she went on shrieking and she suddenly whirled on Jack, knocking his weapon to the side.

The gun went off in the night and she vaguely heard Spike's voice, "Aw, _shit!_ Damn it-" but she didn't bother to turn to look as she rammed her fist into Jack's mouth. He flew sideways with a muffled grunt, recoiling as Faye kicked the weapon out of his grip. Moving cleanly and quickly, she yanked up her dress skirt and drew the Glock 30, pointing it at Jack's head as he recovered, hunched over before her.

"I _deserve,_" she said through clenched teeth and a wicked smile, "a little bit of _fun."_

"You _deserve_ to get shot," Spike said as he came up beside her and out of the corner of her eye she saw him lower his weapon but not before a drop of blood trailed down his hand.

"You hit?" she asked him, still staring at Jack as the man glared angrily at first her then Spike.

"Yeah. But I forgive you. For a share of the bounty."

"A _what?"_ she demanded in a high-pitched shriek. "You didn't do anything except piss me off and get in the way-"

"Hey, if I hadn't shown up-"

"I would have eaten and then claimed the bounty! Now it's gonna be all your fault that I'm hungry and that I'm gonna have to go and clean out the fridge!"

"We never have food in the fridge anyway, you know that," he said to her, his shoulders slumping even as he lifted his cigarette to his mouth. Furiously, she snatched the cigarette from him and took a drag, ignoring the glare he sent her. "Ah, well. I'm sure I have some Ganymede lobster you can have. Maybe in that old fridge…"

And above them, the Bebop appeared, Jet's voice booming from it in the night as lights suddenly came on and blinded the group. "Well, now, what have we here?"

Spike and Faye glanced at each other before looking up and shouting in unison, "Dinner!"


	9. Breakout

**Chapter 9: Breakout**

* * *

_Nadaraka na oka no ue yuruyakani yuki ga furu_

_todokanai to wakattemo kimi no heya ni hitotsu_

_daisuki datta hana wo ima..._

* * *

_The snow falls gently on a hill_

_Even though I can't reach you, I understand_

_The flower in your room that you loved is now..._

* * *

Well, she wasn't completely comfortable having him around, not yet. But they would survive it, wouldn't they? They had made it work before in their own dysfunctional way. They would do so again.

"I'm going to throw the both of you out on your asses, you damn _children!" _Jet roared furiously.

Faye calmly removed her hand from Spike's face as he inched back his foot from her belly. With a purely innocent expression she tapped the ash of her cigarette out into his lukewarm coffee and plopped down on the opposite side of the ugly yellow couch. "He started it."

Spike glanced at his coffee distastefully. "Yeah, that's very mature," he mumbled. "I started it the way I always seem to start things."

"He even admits it." Faye took a drag of her cigarette. With a sigh she leaned back. "Can I have my share of the bounty now?" she asked, feigning it as an unimportant matter.

"What share?" Jet replied. "Most of it went into repairing the ship and stocking up on medical supplies." And he glanced at Spike, halfway through snipping a branch of bonsai.

Faye growled deep in her throat as she turned to Spike. "Exactly the way you start everything else!"

He sent her a malicious smile, tapping out his own cigarette in their new makeshift ashtray.

"So I don't get anything?" Faye looked back at Jet, coming close to whining. "All my hard work and nothing to show for it?"

Cigarette clenched between his lips, Spike grunted and pointed to his bandaged bicep.

"And nothing to show for it!" she shouted at him. "It's your own fault for not listening to a word I say!"

Spike looked at Jet and the older man shook his head at him warningly, returning to his bonsai. "Wait, how the hell did this become my fault?"

"When is anything _not_ your fault?" Faye countered.

With a disgruntled expression Spike rose, taking his mug of ashes with him and tapping out his cigarette in it once more. "I'm getting out of here," he snapped. "The PMS is starting to rage-" and eyeing Faye's legs as they barred his escape route, he wound around the yellow couch.

"You never could handle a real woman," Faye threw at him, bringing him to a stop behind her.

"A real woman?" he drawled with an impish smile and he loomed over her from behind, looking down her yellow vinyl from his position. "There's _nothing_ real there, Faye."

With a snarl Faye clapped a hand over the tops of her breasts, sitting up. "You _asshole_-"

Whistling, Spike took another step and paused as Faye plopped against the back of the couch comfortably once more, arms crossing over her chest haughtily. And then, quietly, he overturned the mug of coffee, pouring it on the female bounty hunter.

Faye shrieked and then sputtered furiously, snapping straight once more in her seat, and instantly Spike was up the back staircase and out of the room. His footsteps echoed down the metallic corridor as Faye rose, shaking herself and splattering coffee and wet cigarette ash over everything in the near vicinity.

Jet barely acknowledged the ash clump that landed on his bonsai.

"_Jet!"_ she screamed, motioning after Spike.

"Just clean the mess and I'll give you your share of the bounty," he said absentmindedly, and he snipped a small branch.

Faye came to a stop, blinking at him with wide-eyes. "Really?" she asked. And at his nod she squealed happily, flinging more coffee on the walls and ceiling and she skipped out almost as cheerfully as Ed on a good day.

Throughout her entire shower, even through the sudden jets of scalding hot water whenever Spike flushed the toilets on her, all Faye thought was that she was going to gamble like there was no tomorrow. She smiled through the first flush and the smile had hardly wavered after the fifth.

"Mine, mine, mine. All mine," she sang gleefully, barely noticing when Spike cut all the water on her, leaving her hair half lathered. Cheerfully, she wrapped herself up in a towel and combed out the soapy shampoo, seeing stars. "Money for meeeee…"

She dressed in her shorts and white shirt, her hair tied back and, filing her nice long nails, she entered the living room. Spike was in Jet's seat, the couch still splattered with coffee, which explained why he hadn't draped his lanky frame there. He shushed her though as she opened her mouth to berate him and with a lit cigarette he motioned wordlessly to the tv.

"And in other news, Jack Spade has fled the Mars Interplanetary Criminal Asylum. Jack Spade, also known as Black Jack, had only recently been detained on Mars. The breakout, which was conducted in the early morning hours, was efficiently executed and we do believe that this was the work of a hacker. As of the last hour there has been no news on Black Jack's whereabouts but the ISSP is on hand and investigating all possible leads. Black Jack is wanted for insurance fraud, embezzlement and conspiracy to commit murder. More on that on the evening news at 1800."

Faye blinked at the television, perplexed, and beside her, taking a drag of his cigarette, Spike glanced at her quietly. The reporter went on to the weather, motioning to a screen of bright colors and planets, and there was going to be another desert storm on Titan.

"What do you think?" Spike asked her quietly.

Faye hesitated only for a moment. "I think," she said breezily, "that I better spend my share of the bounty before the ISSP asks for it back." And she turned on her heel to walk away.

"This guy knew all about you," he called after her. "About us. Aren't you even a bit worried that-" and he came to a dead stop. "You got a cut of the _bounty?!"_

"Have you seen Ed?" she cut him off briskly. "Or Ein for that matter? He's usually trying to steal my food around this time-"

"Is that right?" Spike asked in a monotone. "Isn't it the other way around? I recall catching you eating one of his cans of dog food-"

"_Hey!"_ she snapped at him. "I don't have to defend myself to you." She crossed her arms over her chest and flicked her short hair. "Besides, I want Ed to look up a bit on Black Jack. Maybe she can track him and we can bring him in again-"

"_We?!"_ Spike echoed. "Weren't you just saying-"

The lights and the television suddenly turned off, silencing them both, and a moment later eerie soft blue-green lights flickered on, glowing mutely and shadowing them in darkness.

"What the hell is this?" Spike mumbled slowly, rising from his chair.

"The security system," Faye answered numbly, looking about. A small shiver raced down her spine and she shoved it away as she took an absentminded step toward one of the long bulbs of light running across the ceiling. "Is Ed testing it again?" she murmured and she turned to Spike to find him barely a foot away. "Ed had it installed while you were gone."

Spike backed up into her, also looking around suspiciously. He strained to hear in the silence. "It's a crappy system if I was able to get in when I got back."

"They only got it online yesterday," she responded and suddenly, from the corridor at the back of the room came a small noise. They both whirled toward the staircase, looking up into the darkened hallway but the sound did not come again, which only made them all the more suspicious.

"How about we find Jet and Ed?" Spike stated after a moment, already moving toward the opposite side of the room and toward another corridor.

Faye fell into step behind him and in the hallway they were leaving behind came a small puff of sound and the whimpered cry of a dog.

"Ein-" Faye uttered, eyes widening as she spun back around.

Spike came to a stop and began to pat himself down, cursing under his breath. "I don't have my-" and he whirled on her quickly. "Do you-"

"No," she answered in a loud whisper, motioning to her nail file. "It's in my room-"

There came another sound, a sudden racket of it, then a muffled high-pitched shriek and shouting voices, unfamiliar. Faye and Spike stared back into the cold hallway once more, stiff, and from it came the sound of footsteps running across metal. More metal clashed and, through the air vents running across the ceiling, came the sound of scurrying. Faye flinched as the vents carried the noises and Ed's voice suddenly echoed in the room, from the vents.

"_Bebop! Bebop! They're here!"_

Faye's jaw dropped open, Spike taking a step toward the corridor. "What are you _doing?"_ she demanded in a harsh whisper, grabbing his arm and causing him to grimace. She released him, realizing she had clutched his wounded arm and he turned to her, his face the same shade of blue as the lights.

"Get Jet!" he ordered. "I don't know where he is, just_ find_ him-"

"Hey!" she snapped in a stage whisper. "You are not the boss of me!"

Spike looked ready to whack her off the head. "Faye," he said calmly and carefully, "I'm going to go get Ed. Make yourself useful and make sure Jet is ok!" He whirled without another word and lifted his head toward the air vents, following them momentarily in silent thought.

"You're going alone?" she asked him from behind, reluctant to separate.

He lifted a hand and with his height he easily touched the underbelly of an air vent. "I'm going to go work off some tension," he answered quietly, running his fingers over the metal sheet.

"Tension?!" she demanded. "Are you _crazy-"_

"Nah, just really bored," he said and he sent her a wink, smiling wryly as he looked up at the air vents once more. "Months of recovering, lying around doing nothing, help you build up some tension." And reaching up with both hands he lifted a sheet of metal and slid it aside to reveal the dark inside of the air vent.

Faye managed to control the throbbing vein. "Recovering is supposed to _ease_ the tension," she growled.

"Is that right?" he sounded absentminded. "Well, I never did follow the rules," and he took hold of the sides of the air vent and hoisted himself up easily, fitting his lanky frame into the vent and quickly squirming out of sight.

Faye sighed inwardly. "Stupid lunkhead," she murmured and with a shake of her head she turned and went down the opposite corridor in search of Jet.

* * *

Spike paused, peeking through a small netting of metal in a sheet of the air vent. He lay on the floor of the vent, breathing shallowly, his senses alert. All the noises had come to a stop and he didn't know which way the air vents led, only that they circulated all the air throughout the ship. But he was sure Ed was still hiding herself in the vents somewhere. The corridors below him were empty and he rose up on hands and knees once more, crawling along silently.

Faintly from ahead he heard small tapping sounds and he hesitated as the sound reverberated throughout the vent. It was the sound of keys on a keyboard and he wondered if it was Ed. Continuing on, he turned a corner in the vent and several feet down that turn was an intersecting vent. A glow came from that intersecting vent, along with the sounds of the phantom hacker, and he gingerly crawled on, preparing himself.

Ed's head suddenly poked out of the side vent, her goggles over her eyes. "Spike-person," she said in a hushed tone.

Spike exhaled with a relieved sigh. "Shit, Ed, you had us worried. What are you doing?" he asked as he crawled close to the hacker and paused at the opening of her intersecting vent.

"Protecting the Bebop!" she replied with a giggle and she pulled her head back into her vent. Tomato was open before her thin, cross-legged frame and she hunched forward once more, staring intently at the picture flashing across the goggles. The laptop had been expertly hooked up to a wall of circuits in the side of the vent and Spike stared, lips parting. He wondered how long that circuitry had been there, hidden away in a vent and he couldn't say he was very surprised that Ed had stumbled across it in her time aboard the Bebop. The hacker never seemed to let anything stop her from discovering new things.

Before him, Ed suddenly saddened and he looked at her as she paused in her typing to turn to her side and lift something heavy into her arms. "They hurt Ein," she said, holding a limp mass of fur and her tone was enough to make even him feel bad.

The welsh corgi was unconscious, a small mark reddening the furry area of his neck.

Spike took Ein, setting him aside and studying Ed as the hacker returned to her Tomato. "What's going on, Ed?" he asked her, a hand absentmindedly petting Ein's soft head.

Her hands flying over the keyboard, Ed stared at the pictures shooting across the goggles, her lips parting thoughtfully. "Intruder-persons," she piped up almost cheerfully. And she hit a few more keys competently.

"Now isn't the time to play a game," Spike advised her.

"Not a game," Ed replied although to Spike it sure as hell seemed like one. "Edward is shutting down levels of security. The intruder-persons have a hacker-person like Ed but not as good as Ed. The hacker-person is using Ed's security system against Ed." And the girl glanced at Spike quickly though her goggles. "Edward is not happy."

Spike arched a brow.

Ed turned Tomato a bit in Spike's direction for him to see. "This is Faye-Faye and Jet-person," she explained and on Tomato's screen was a grid layout of the Bebop. She motioned to two glowing red dots separated by a few grid lines. She pointed to a row of grid lines inches away onscreen but what on the Bebop were probably hundreds of feet. "Here is Ed, Ein and Spike-person."

Spike frowned at the screen. "Why aren't we little red dots?"

"Because Ed shut down heat signatures in this area. It was how Ed knew Spike-person was coming," the hacker answered. A few more typed keys brought up a small box asking for password confirmation and then, as Ed typed in a few keys, the dots for Faye and Jet also vanished. "Level Three security offline," she announced. And she looked at Spike once more. "But that means Spike-person won't know where the intruder-persons are either."

Spike nodded, impressed. "All this while I was gone," he mumbled. "How big a pain is this hacker going to be?"

"Pain, sane, scatterbrain," Ed sang as if that answered everything. She squinted at the image in her goggles as Spike looked at Tomato's screen. "Hacker-person is using Tomato's system but hacker-person can't crack Ed's codes," she said quietly. And then, clicking a few keys, "Hacker-person is aboard Bebop."

Spike blinked. "The hacker is…" he echoed slowly. "How do you know? They could be screwing us from Callisto for all we –"

"Ed's security system is a separate entity from online security systems," Ed explained. "Hacker-person can't affect Bebop's systems unless hacker-person is linked inside Bebop."

Spike blinked once more. "Which means the hacker can't try to break down the system or your codes unless he's physically on board and has a computer physically plugged in aboard the Bebop," he stated, hoping he had gotten it right.

Tomato flashed momentarily and onscreen was a picture of a thumbs-up sign along with Ed's signature little multi-colored faces. Below the thumbs-up sign in big brilliant letters was written, "You are great!"

"Spike-person understands Edward!"

Spike's eyes drooped, his eyebrow twitching. "Ed, no one understands you. It's what's so special about you."

"Special?" Ed asked thoughtfully, a finger raised to her chin.

Spike shifted a bit, looking back to the laptop screen once more. "Would it be a bad idea to shut down all systems aboard the ship?" he asked. "All lights, all power?"

Ed hesitated, glancing at Ein's unconscious form. "The milk in the fridge would go baaaaaaad…"

"We have milk in the _fridge?"_ Spike's interest was piqued. And in a low, plotting tone, eyes shifting sideways mischievously, "No one alerted me to that fact…"

"It's for Ein," Ed informed him suspiciously, her eyes narrowed.

"Sure it is. Look, Ed, yes or no? Would it be a bad idea to shut down all power? Or will that leave us even more defenseless?" he asked her again.

The hacker hesitated once more, eyes shifting back toward Tomato's screen. "Edward thinks it will be ok but none of the doors will open or shut unless manually overridden. Jet-person can override but Faye-Faye isn't smart enough to know how to-"

"Tell me about it," Spike mumbled in an undertone. "But, you know what? That's ok. We get to play a few games on Faye-Faye." And he leaned toward Tomato once more. "Here's what we're going to do…"

* * *

Faye looked about the corridor, straining to hear. There was nothing but the soft buzzing of the emergency lights but in this silence, even they seemed unbearably loud. She pressed herself against the cold metal wall and slid further down the hallway, lifting her eyes to the second level above. She passed by a few miniature ladders that led up to that smaller corridor, looking ahead toward the kitchen. There was silence everywhere, she couldn't know where Jet was and undoubtedly Jet was making it harder for her to find him by hiding himself from the other people that seemed to be trying to take over the Bebop. She growled inwardly, pausing beside her bedroom door. "Men are idiots."

Above her was a small sound suddenly and she nearly snapped her neck to look up, her eyes widening intently. There was a hard metal floor up above and small sheets of netting that allowed her to look up into that second floor. But all she saw were the blue-green lights, flickering faintly.

And then a shadow moved and she instantly slammed her hand on the console beside her door, hearing her door swish open. She flung herself inside and a moment later a second figure entered with her, shoving her further into her room. She fell to the icy cold floor with a muffled cry and slid, and the door closed with barely a sound.

"Geez, what the hell is going on around here?" came Jet's voice and she whirled onto her rear, looking up at the older man as he leaned against her door and exhaled wearily.

"What the _fuck_, Jet?" she demanded furiously. "Next time _warn_ me!"

He opened his eyes to glare at her. "Sure, sure. Next time, in between the running and the bullets."

Faye stared at him. "Bullets?" she echoed and she rose to her feet, rubbing her knees, which were going to bruise, she already felt it. What a fine day this was turning out to be. "So there are people aboard the ship?" she asked him.

"Quite a few, I'd say," he answered her and he slid down the door to sit on her floor.

She didn't know how he did it. The floor was damn cold. But then, in shorts and a flimsy shirt she should have been used to the cold. Already weary she drew close to him and leaned against her wall, sighing. "I think they got Ed," she said to him. "Spike went after them to see what was going on and he sent me to look for you."

Jet rubbed his shiny, baldhead. "How many are there?"

Faye threw him a look he didn't catch due to his bowed head. "I thought you told me we had intruders."

Jet grunted and he got to his feet achingly, shifting his fake limb. "Well, we can't stay here forever," he advised her. He stooped a bit as he entered into her room a bit further, tripping across something on the floor, and he stared silently for a moment before kicking the object toward her. Faye glanced down to see her nail file slide to a stop before her and she frowned, wondering when she had dropped it. He turned to her as she bent to pick it up. "Do you have an extra gun I can use?"

"Only my Glock," she replied and she went toward her dresser, opening the top drawer and slipping it out. "Want my nail file?"

"Nope."

She shut the drawer and checked the weapon. Full clip. She opened the drawer once more and pulled out an extra clip. "If we stop by Spike's room we can pick up his gun-"

"He went after them without a gun?" Jet demanded in disbelief.

"Yep."

The older man sighed, the exhalation ending in a growl. "Wonderful. Ok, so here's the plan. We get out of here, skip to Spike's room, get his gun because the idiot probably needs it while we're sitting here, stop by the kitchen and get the weapon out of the icebox-"

Faye's eyes widened.

"You didn't know I had a weapon there, did ya?" Jet asked smugly.

"We have an _icebox?!"_

Jet stared at her. "Maybe I should be doing this alone."

"Ok, ok, ok. Icebox, got it," Faye rambled. "And then?"

"And then we go back the way you came, only by the second level," he motioned upward. "It'll be risky since the emergency lights are on, but we have no other choice, really."

Faye nodded, biting her lip. "Ok. Well, I don't want to have to work this out later so…the Hammerhead is bigger than the Swordfish and the Redtail. Do you want to take Ed and Ein?"

Jet blinked at her. "Take them where?"

Faye lifted a hand to her hip, waving her gun impatiently. "On a fucking picnic. Where the fuck do you _think?_ Off the damn ship!"

_"Off the ship?!" _Jet looked at her as if she had birthed an alien child. "Are you _kidding_ me? I'm not leaving the ship!"

_"What?!"_ Faye demanded.

"I'm not leaving the ship!" Jet shouted. He lifted a hand to emphasize his point. "This damn ship's my life! I'm not leaving it behind for them to mess up, no way!"

"Tell me you're fucking kidding me," Faye stated flatly.

"I am not kidding! This ain't no fucking _game, _Faye! If you want to go, then go! But I'm staying!" he said firmly and he seemed quite serious.

Faye stared at him for a long, silent moment, sure that her head was about to explode. And then, furiously, she threw her hands in the air, wanting to suddenly shoot off a round. "I don't fucking _believe_ this!" she cried. She growled at him as he crossed his arms over his wide chest, his stance one of grim determination. "Fine. Fine!" she shouted. And in an undertone, "I'm leaving your dumbass here..." With a motion of her hand she waltzed back to her bedroom door. "C'mon, let's get this done-"

"I'm being serious, Faye," he said to her roughly, bringing her to a stop. "You can go if you want but I'm staying-"

"I'm not _fucking-" _she began to screech and she cut herself off, composing herself. In a lower tone, controlled, even though all she wanted to do was scream and keep screaming until she couldn't anymore, she said, "I'm not leaving you, Jet. This is my life too as much as it fucking _pains _me to say it. So, let's get the hell out of this damn room and find Ed, that damn lunkhead, and that stupid _dog!" _And she began to head back toward her door before suddenly coming to a dead stop.

Whirling, she swept passed Jet, who watched her with a small, "Wha..?" and she dug under her pillow frantically, pulling out a small item and shoving it into a pocket. Then, lifting her weapon wearily, she went to the door and slammed her hand on the console to open it.

It swished open and outside, the hallway was silent.

Slipping the extra clip snugly inside her shirt, in between her breasts, she shoved her nail file into her back pocket and threw herself out, already aiming the gun wildly. Behind her, Jet came to the doorway slowly.

"There's no one-" she began.

And at that moment a small mechanical voice murmured from the console beside her door, "Goodbye!" and Faye watched as the lights began to shut off in the hallway, racing toward her position. She lifted her head in confusion and beside her the door suddenly closed with another swish, separating her from Jet.

"Jet!" she cried as all the lights went out, leaving her in darkness.

But only for a moment. As she pounded on the door, red beams of light swept up her body and she flinched, dodging away automatically. A powerful beam of white light came on, blinding her, and she could faintly make out the small group of people in uniform passed the flashlight, their guns drawn and pointing the red beams at her.

"Well, well. Lookie here..." said the officer in charge, smiling coldly.

* * *


	10. Always in the Dark About Everything

**Always in the Dark (About Everything):**

"All power off. Rerouting," Ed chirped and she clicked one last button before Tomato flickered. All the lights suddenly went off, even the blue-green emergency lights, and rather competently, Ed lifted a hand to the goggles and flicked a small switch on them.

"And that means..?" Spike asked and he grimaced as a hard light snapped on from a small device on the goggles' left frame.

"It means," the hacker said as she closed down Tomato, "all power is being stored in small points around Bebop. A point like this," and she motioned to the circuitry, bowing her head for the beam of light to wash over the wall. "Hacker-person can't tap into Edward's system unless hacker-person has password to break in."

Spike was uncertain. "You don't think he'll be able to hack in?" he asked.

Ed shook her head. "Nope. Ed's password is on rotation. Bebop will go through a different password every half-minute." And she clutched Tomato to her chest as she unplugged it and sealed up the circuitry once more. "Spike-person will take Ein?" she asked him in a hopeful tone.

Spike nodded and he began to unbutton his jacket. "Tie the sleeves to my back," he ordered as he set his jacket down and placed Ein's unconscious form inside it. Cradling the jacket complete with dog to his chest, he waited as Ed tied the sleeves like a sling, one sleeve over his shoulder, the other winding under his arm to secure at his back. "Ready?"

"Hai!" Ed cried cheerfully.

"Ok, let's get our asses outta here."

* * *

"Motherf-" Faye shouted and she dove sideways, immediately throwing herself out of the beam's light. She rammed into the opposite wall, ducking in and out of the light's range as the guns began to fire. Cursing under her breath she raced down the hallway, feeling as the bullets tore into the metal floor at the back of her feet. Further along the corridor was Spike's room and she dove for it, slamming her hand on the console.

The door remained closed.

"What the hell?!" she cried frantically. And bullets sparked off the floor at her feet, forcing her to jump back. Down at the very end of the corridor was the kitchen and that door was shut as well. She knew before even going that it was locked tightly. She ducked out of the flashlight's beam once more as it swept by her knee and as it swung back toward her she was already lifting her weapon and firing.

The soldier in the lead, holding the flashlight, was the first to go down. One of her bullets caught him in the neck and as he dropped the flashlight, choking on his blood, Faye aimed at the fallen flashlight. Her bullets tore into it a moment later, destroying it.

"Let's see how much fun you guys have shooting in the dark," she growled and she squeaked as shots flew passed her head, aimed wildly. "Damn," she murmured absentmindedly, ramming into a cold side ladder. "They have better aim in the dark!" And she paused, clutching the ladder with a white-knuckled hand. She knew the ladder led to that small second level. She could double back that way-

Not wasting another moment she began to climb, knocking aside the trapdoor above and instantly squirming through it. They were still shooting blindly below, the only light the occasional spark of a ricocheting bullet. With an evil little giggle she closed the trapdoor and began to double back, moving silently.

* * *

Spike paused in mid-crawl, Ed at his heels. "Is that…" he asked slowly, straining to hear in the silence. And sure enough, echoing through the air vents came the distinct sound of gunfire. "Damn it, you've got to be shitting me."

"Shitting?" Ed repeated quizzically and she blinked wide eyes at him, Tomato perfectly balanced on her head.

"How much do you want to bet that's Faye fucking it up?" he asked the hacker, moving to continue crawling once more.

"Not Faye-Faye," the hacker said in a cheerful voice. "Faye-Faye doesn't mess up anymore." And she paused as he came to a stop once more.

Spike glanced back at her suspiciously. "Faye-Faye doesn't mess up anymore?" he echoed the hacker. "Since when?"

"Since Spike-person left!" she answered.

Spike stared at her for a long moment, his lips parted in thoughtful silence. And then, with a blank look he faced forward and began to crawl along once more. Ed followed, humming faintly to herself as they crossed along the air vents, listening for more sounds. The gunfire was still going on and the more they traveled along, the closer it seemed to get. Spike paused at a patch of steel netting and peeked through, searching the corridor but there was nothing to see except pure darkness. Lifting his head once more he squinted as Ed's light flashed passed him and illuminated the air vent. Up ahead the vent split in two again and the sound of gunfire came from the direction of the vent that branched off to their right. Spike glanced down once more through the netting, a frown crossing his face. Something was…about to go very wrong…

In the darkness below him, in the corridor, something clicked ominously and his eyes had a moment to widen before he flung himself backward, crashing against the top of the air vent and then the side as he bounced off. A second later gunfire erupted violently, ricocheting off the metal sheets of the air vent.

"Shit!" he cursed, Ed squeaking behind him, and he turned on her, cradling Ein with one hand. "Ed! Turn that fucking light off!"

As more shots went off the hacker immediately shut off the beam of light from her goggles, her other hand holding Tomato balanced.

The air vent was suddenly blanketed in darkness and Spike paused, one arm blocking his face, the other wrapped around Ein's limp form as he flattened himself along the floor of the vent. He felt the gunfire under him as it struck the metal sheets of the vent, as the bullets were deflected. Behind him he felt Ed's presence and she was silent, her body also stretched out along the floor of the vent as she brushed against his leg. He reached down blindly in the darkness, encountering first Tomato and then her wild hair under the laptop. He pulled roughly on a lock of her hair.

"Ouchie!" she hissed under the gunfire. And she slid closer to him as he found the lock once more and pulled yet again.

"I'm going down there," he said to her as she brought her head close to his and the laptop smacked him in the cheek. "Ed! Move that damn computer!" he growled at her. And as she slipped it down into her arms he continued, "I can't see them and they can't see me-"

"Intruder-persons have guns!"

Spike hesitated. "Well, yeah, but I have a data dog. I say we're pretty much even-"

"Ein is not Spike-person's shield!" Ed sounded as close to horrified as she could.

"Are you deliberately trying to ruin my fun?" Spike asked her and he shoved her away a bit. "I'm going. Up ahead is another vent. Take it straight. You'll probably run into Faye and Jet if you stay with it. Ok?"

"Ok," the hacker sounded reluctant.

Spike glanced in her direction at the sound of her tone. "Don't worry about me, Ed. I'll catch up-" he said to her in what he hoped was a soothing tone.

"Ed is worried for Ein."

And he sighed wearily. "Of course you are. What would make me think anything else?" he questioned rhetorically. And he crawled toward the netting once more, his fingers reaching out to poke at it. There were several holes in the net and as he paused, so too did the gunfire.

"Did we get him?" came a very soft voice from below. Spike stared in the darkness, listening intently, and the voice had come from a bit to the left. Below, and to the right, someone answered the first voice quietly and, completing a triangle of people, was the faint click of a weapon reloading.

Slowly and silently, Spike brought his legs up, pulling himself into a crouch. His head bent at an uncomfortable angle, his shoulders pressing to the ceiling of the vent, Ein almost crushed between his thighs and his chest. Inching forward a tiny bit he inhaled, readying himself.

One. Two. Three.

Supporting himself on his hands alone he lifted his feet off the metal sheets and then rammed them into the netting of the vent. The netting snapped, the entire sheet coming loose, and he fell with it, landing into a crouch directly in the middle of the triangle.

Gunfire immediately rang out, someone cursing, and Spike kicked outward blindly from his crouch, the data dog clutched firmly in the crook of his arm. His boot connected with something hard and he barely wasted a moment, spinning with the same leg, his hook kick aimed squarely into the face of another intruder.

"Where is he?!" the third figure shouted, spraying the hallway with gunfire.

Following the direction of the voice as it came from behind him, Spike wordlessly lifted his elbow, grimacing as he pulled at his wound. He landed the elbow directly into the last intruder's nose, silently cheering himself. A hoarse grunt answered the attack, the man's weapon clattering to the floor.

"Shit! I can't see him! I can't see-"

And a brilliant flashlight came on, blinding Spike as he whirled around. He reflexively brought a hand to his face before immediately ducking away, blinking afterimages from his vision.

"Crap! He's fast!" came the second voice. The flashlight swung around wildly, flying over Spike's head as he dodged once more.

With a stunted breath he rolled across his wounded shoulder toward the intruder holding the flashlight. Ein shifted a bit in his grip and as he completed the roll he threw his body into a slide, coming to a stop directly in front of the intruder with the flashlight. He kicked sideways, his foot knocking into the flashlight and sending it crashing against the wall.

"Man, you are fucked now," Spike let him know with a wry smile as the corridor fell into darkness.

"Wait. Wait!" the intruder shouted into the blackness of the hallway and he sounded frantic. Spike kicked up, easily bringing himself to his feet. "We were sent to bring her back alive! Unharmed-"

Spike brought his leg up behind the man, snapping it and catching the intruder across the back of his head and, even as the man was falling forward, he was ramming into him, his forearm crashing against the man's throat and knocking him to the ground. "You hurt my dog," Spike said coldly, hearing the man fall swiftly and quietly.

Gunfire erupted once more and one shot caught Spike, grazing the yellow shirt covering his right shoulder, just barely missing his ear. He ducked, wincing, and fell into a crouch, bringing his free hand up to his face. He couldn't see in the godforsaken darkness and he regretted destroying the flashlight for a moment. But the gunfire was wild and dispersed in the hallway and to the side he heard the other intruder shuffling. He was looking for the other gun, he realized instantly, and he rose swiftly, sliding once more. He rammed into the unarmed intruder roughly, his entire body knocking out the man's legs from under him. The intruder landed squarely on him with a surprised shout and Spike didn't waste a moment, bucking the man's heavy form off him. Lashing outward he slammed his heel into the man's head and he heard the body go flying backwards and crash against the opposite wall of the hallway.

That's two.

"Where the hell-" the last one was screaming and he was simply letting loose gunfire throughout the entire corridor, not seeming to care where he was aiming. Spike flattened himself to the cold floor, on his side so as to avoid crushing Ein and even as he thought it the data dog moved once more, his paw jerking against Spike's neck. Spike instantly cupped a hand over the dog's snout as the gunfire cut off suddenly.

Utter silence filled the hallway.

Spike hesitated, breathing heavily but faintly, his hand wrapped around Ein's snout. He knew what the man was thinking, what he was hoping. He was hoping he had gotten the job done. Spike remained motionless, hearing the intruder as he shifted a bit, moving to the side very slowly. Who trained these guys, anyway? Spike controlled his facial expression as the man stumbled, no doubt over a fallen comrade's figure. He hesitated still, listening intently as the intruder righted himself and then continued to walk, slowly and tentatively.

Ein let loose a muffled whimper.

His eyes widening, Spike immediately rolled, ducking his head and ramming into the wall as gunfire broke out once more. "Shit, Ein, whose side are you on?" he demanded of the dog and the welsh corgi apologized with another small whimper. "Yeah, yeah, you feel bad now. Wait until I let Faye get her hands on you…"

The gunfire cut off abruptly and Spike looked up quickly, surprised. The intruder cursed violently and then there were the very familiar sounds of a person stumbling and shuffling frantically. "Out of ammo?" Spike called to him in a knowing sigh. And he rolled, rising to his feet, listening to the man as he staggered blindly. He cocked his head, following all the noises the intruder made as he stumbled about and as he came closer Spike suddenly raced forward. He knew he had dropped one guy only a few feet from where he had been and he jumped, sailing over the prone figure on the floor. His body crashed against the only remaining trespasser, his knee cracking against the man's face and the intruder went down with a muffled howl, toppling. Spike landed on top of him, ignoring Ein as the dog began to shift once more, and he punched once. Unfortunately his fist slammed into the cold floor of the hallway and he grumbled in irritation, "Stop moving!" as the intruder flailed. Trapping the man to the floor with his knees he aimed one last punch and he connected this time, his fist smashing into the man's nose. The intruder made a small, muffled sound before falling unconscious and Spike hesitated, listening intently in the darkness. There was no other sound, however, and he finally slumped wearily, straddling the intruder's chest.

Ein squeaked like a plush doll.

"I'm very angry with you," Spike muttered and he rose, his body only then really beginning to feel the stress he had just put himself through. He sighed, taking a step and immediately tripping on a fallen weapon. With a shout he landed roughly on his rear and he decided right then and there to merely sit and rest, his arm tight around Ein.

The data dog pawed at him once more, panting in the silence of the hallway and he felt the dog breath on his face.

"Yuck. Geez, Ein, you almost got me killed. A few times. I really should let Faye have her fun with you."

The data dog made a small sound of disbelief.

"Yup," Spike said wearily and he rose once more, a bit more carefully this time. "And I'm talking to a dog…"

* * *

The door swished open. 

Carefully and silently, Jet peeked out into complete and utter darkness. And a moment later gunfire broke out and he immediately ducked back into the room, crouching beside the doorway. He didn't know how it had happened, what had happened, but Faye had been left outside with the men and he had heard the gunfire clear through the door as he had tried to manually override the lock. It had taken him a damn long time, too, and as he hesitated beside the door he wondered if she was still alive.

The gunfire died away and in that silence, static sounded. Jet brought his head close to the wall, straining to hear, and one of the people in the corridor murmured something, only to be answered quite angrily through what sounded like a communications device.

"He wants her alive, damn it!"

"She took us out. All the power has gone off aboard the ship. We're fighting blind-"

Jet paused as he heard the shuffling steps of an approaching figure, the first man still arguing in the background. He tried to hear what was being said even as the other person drew closer, and he wished once more for a weapon.

"You are not being paid to bitch! Find the woman and bring her in!" and the communication device went silent.

The first man nonetheless replied stonily, "Yes, sir," and Jet slowly inched his way up along the wall, rising out of his crouch. The approaching figure was nearly silent and he waited for him, his breath held.

And from above, along the wall coming from a vent, came a high-pitched giggle. "Oooh, Intruder-persons! Edward is here!"

Jet reminded himself to kill the little hacker when he got the next opportunity. With a small growl he moved, his hand lifting to the side and connecting with the barrel of a weapon. It instantly went off, illuminating Faye's room as the shots sparked across metal, and he rammed his good fist into the attacker's face. The intruder bit out a muffled shout and more gunfire erupted. Edward's shriek cut the air and Jet looked up quickly, blind in the darkness and fearful.

"Shit, Jet!" came Faye's voice as well and he instantly felt relief sweep through him, even as he knew before the day was out she was going to hear it from him. "Are you letting them shoot up my room?!"

"Better your room than your stupid body!" he shouted back, grinning in the darkness. And he hadn't relinquished his grip on the intruder's weapon. He punched again with his good arm, his cybernetic arm clutching the barrel tightly to his side and even as the intruder stumbled backward he was following, yanking the weapon and turning it in his hand to shoot blindly. The shots were met with another low growl and Jet knew he had gotten him good that time, still shooting just in case.

Behind the falling trespasser's bullet-riddled body, Faye was revealed midway through climbing down a side ladder, the sparking bullets casting quick flashes of light throughout the corridor. She cried out as the corpse covered her, taking most of the bullets on its way down and she instinctively ducked her head and cowered against the ladder, shouting, "Watch it, watch it, watch it!"

"Whoops," Jet mumbled, quickly lowering the weapon and staring out into darkness once more. "Sorry-"

And from the side, a figure suddenly rammed into Faye, instantly wrapping his arms around her waist and hauling her off the ladder.

"Hey-"

"I got her, I got her! _Go, go, go!" _the intruder holding her ordered and another intruder stepped up, reloading their weapon.

"You got_ me!" _Faye cried as if she couldn't believe it, flailing in the man's arms. "Get the hell _off_ me-"

Jet squinted into the darkness and from above, a thin light suddenly flashed on, from the vent. The light caught the covering intruder squarely in the face, a small woman holding a very large weapon, and the intruder instantly aimed upward, firing.

"Eeeeeeh!" shrieked Edward from above, the light bobbing as the hacker ducked back into the ventilation tunnel but Jet had already gotten a good look at the person before him. He lifted his weapon once more and unloaded several shots, his jaw clenched. He would be damned if these people took over the Bebop. Not after all the damn work he had put into the fishing trawler.

In the darkness, Faye struggled, the weapon in her hand trapped against her thigh as the man's arms around her tightened. She growled furiously, throwing her body erratically and finding herself slamming them both against the side of the corridor. The man took hold of a chunk of her hair, yanking her head back. "Listen to me, bitch," he whispered coldly in her ear and she hesitated for a moment, her teeth gritting. "Stop struggling or I will-"

With a heated shout Faye lifted her legs and kicked off the wall, shoving them both backward. The man holding her stumbled, slipping across the narrow corridor against the other side and she heard his head crack against the metallic wall. His grip loosened and she slipped free, immediately whirling and lifting the weapon.

"Faye! Where are you?" Jet shouted from further down the hallway and she quickly glanced over, her eyes drawn to the flickering light that came from Ed's position in the vent through a sheet of netting. And a moment later Jet grunted and there was the sound of scuffling, metal sounding in the corridor.

Faye whirled back around, her finger already tightening on the trigger just as her weapon was shoved aside, a fist catching her in the face. She staggered, pain and light flashing behind her closed eyes and the man took hold of her once more, his thick arm winding around her neck from behind and tightening like a vise.

Jet rolled onto his back, one last intruder clambering to get on top of him and he grimaced as a hand came down on his face, shoving his head to the side. With his cybernetic arm Jet swung, hearing the hard sound of metal against bone and the man staggered sideways, falling to one knee. Jet followed blindly, ignoring the flash of Ed's light, and a moment later the light went off, leaving the entire corridor in solid blackness once more. The figure before him shuffled, lunging forward with a cry and he suddenly choked, inches from Jet.

Jet stared into the darkness in confusion and he distinctly heard Ed giggle, her light coming on once more. And the hacker hung from the vent by one arm, her other hand lifted to the small device shining light around the corridor, her legs wrapped around the intruder's neck and squeezing.

"Edward came just in time!" she said with another giggle.

Jet smiled up at her and he moved forward, aiming a well placed punch into the man's face. The intruder flinched and then fell limply, unconscious.

"Oooh," Ed suddenly said and she quickly reached up with her other hand to cling to the vent. "Intruder-person _heavy-"_

Down the hall came the sounds of one last scuffle and Edward lifted her head, shining light in that direction.

Faye was struggling still, cursing a mile a minute, and the intruder behind her suddenly looked toward them as the light came to rest on them. He quickly wound his other arm around Faye's neck, slipping free his gun hand and just as he raised his weapon a dog barked, forcing them all to stop.

"Ein!" Edward squealed happily.

And Faye lifted her elbow, ramming it into the intruder's face. He flinched, his weapon shooting automatically and Jet quickly dove sideways to get out of the way of gunfire, Ed scampering back up into the air vent. Faye elbowed the man again, furiously, and she shoved herself backward as the man shot blindly, slamming them both back against the wall once more. At her feet Ein appeared, revealed by the sparking gunfire. His tail wagged cheerfully for a moment before he seemed to understand the situation and then he immediately growled, his snout furrowing. Faye knocked the man's weapon aside as he aimed for Ein and she made herself a mental note to berate herself later for saving the dog's life. One last elbow to the face made him shove her forward off him and she stumbled sideways, quickly spinning and lifting her own weapon. He was faster, spraying the hallway with bullets and behind her, as she dove for cover she heard, "Damn it! Not again!"

With a clenched jaw Faye pulled the trigger and all gunfire immediately came to an end, the only sound coming from the intruder as he slumped to the floor noisily. And then there was silence once more. Faye looked up and around, breathing shallowly, and to her side she heard movement. Quickly, she rose, aiming into the darkness and Ed's light came out once more, illuminating the hallway and Spike, clutching his previously wounded arm. His expression was enough to kill anyone where they stood and Faye quickly dropped her weapon, backing away.

"Geez, are you ok?"

"Wonderful," he drawled and he leaned against the wall, sliding to the cold floor with a groan.

Faye whirled around to squint into the light, a hand lifting to her eyes and Jet appeared behind her, one hand on his hip. At her feet Ein barked and she had half a mind to lift her weapon once more. "Damn dog…"

"Damn dog, damn dog!" Edward echoed laughingly and she hopped down once more, her light flying around the corridor. She drew close to them and in the reflected light attached to her goggles she could be made out carrying her Tomato. She handed Faye the laptop rather brusquely and took hold of Ein's two front paws, swinging the dog around cheerfully.

Jet rounded Faye's highly impatient form and nudged Spike's foot. "Hey, you ok?"

"I got shot again," he mumbled wearily, grimacing as Ed's light blinded him as she danced and swung. "Actually," and his glare was directed at Faye, "I got shot a few times."

"You look like shit," Jet said, sounding sympathetic.

"Thanks, Jet. You always know the right thing to say."

Faye moved forward a step, Tomato hanging limply in her grasp, and collapsed beside Spike, just as tired. "What the hell was all that about?" she demanded and she lifted a hand to massage her mouth where she had gotten punched. She worked her jaw, wincing in dismay.

"Who knows," Jet shrugged and he looked at her. "But they were after you."

"Why me?" Faye asked dejectedly. She was going to have to put on loads of makeup to cover the bruise that was sure to rise.

"You been pissing people off again?" Spike asked, his long legs splayed out before him, his head back against the wall. His eyes closed as he rested, his arms hanging weakly.

"I'm always pissing people off," Faye replied and her tone lightened almost coyly. "It's part of my charm."

"Is that right?" He didn't bat an eyelash, much less seem like he had cared for an answer.

Faye looked back up at Jet. "Can we get some lights back up so that we can at least see if there are more of them?"

"Game over!" Ed cried from further down the hall and she giggled.

"Game over?" Faye repeated questioningly.

"No more games for Faye-Faye!" And Ed came back toward them, her light bobbing in the hallway. She grabbed her laptop from Faye, leaving the woman with a confused expression on her face, and instead she saddled her with Ein, running back down the hallway with Tomato.

"What games?" Faye called after her impatiently, absentmindedly embracing the data dog.

Spike quickly straightened. "Uh, Ed-"

"Spike-person made Ed turn off all the lights on Faye-Faye!" Ed called back toward them and she crouched down the hallway, sliding open a sheet of metal and reaching into the wall.

Faye whirled on Spike. "What?" she asked in a sinister voice. And as he slid a glance at her out of the corner of his eye she rose menacingly, clutching Ein and causing the dog to whimper. "What?"

"Hey, I'm a wounded man here-" he said to her, his eyes widening as she loomed over him.

Jet sighed and stooped, whisking Ein out of Faye's grasp. "Can't we all just be happy that we're alive-"

The sound of a scuffle cut him off and he didn't even want to look to see who would have the upper hand in that little war. He glanced toward Ed to see her dim figure seated before Tomato and from all around, a mechanical voice suddenly said, "Hello!" and the lights came on once more, flooding the hallways.

Faye looked up, clutching Spike in a headlock.

Edward oooh'ed at the end of the hallway, applying a majestic voice as she wiggled her fingers over Tomato. "And then there was light!" She clicked a few buttons, humming to herself and Jet waited, slowly stepping over Faye and Spike's grappling figures as he paced down the hallway.

"Security systems back online. No more intruder-persons!" Ed called to him and she turned off the light on her goggles. "Bebop is secure!"

Faye released Spike but not before poking him in his wounded arm. "You are cleaning this mess," she growled at him and she frowned as something fell from her pocket. They both turned to look to see what it was but she reached it first, scooping up the lighter and quickly shoving it back into her pocket. She turned one last glare on him and he met her eyes, merely staring at her for a long moment. She returned the stare, her glare dying away and, silently, she turned away and walked toward her room.

It was time for another shower.


	11. The Best Part of Waking Up

The Best Part of Waking Up:

The bodies had been thrown overboard in the early hours of the morning when it seemed like absolutely every damn fisherman on Mars was awake. In rather inconspicuous movements Jet had disposed of them one at a time, looking as innocent as one could while slipping corpses wrapped up in black plastic into the calm waters. Lucky for him five in the morning usually yielded little light.

Now the remaining intruders were tied up and handcuffed to the Bebop's many railings, all of them in the common room where Spike and Faye were able to watch them if they would only put their minds to it.

* * *

A grunt of pain. An angry shriek.

"Stop fighting me! You're such a damn baby!"

"I am not! You're the one trying to kill me!"

The muscles in Jet's face seemed to sink lower the higher the decibel rose. They would never get along, no matter what happened, no matter what horrors they faced, he told himself for the millionth time. He had to face it. Never, ever, ever. He tossed a few peppers, hearing them sizzle and wondering if it would ever end, imagining what it would take before they ever spoke to each other civilly. The end of the world? The greatest bounty ever? Dinner of bell peppers _and_ beef?

"I'm sorry!" Faye shouted and Jet glanced up in surprise, his cigarette hanging half out of his mouth.

Oh?

And a moment later Spike shouted in pain and it was loud enough to have even Ed pull her head out of the empty fridge. "Spike-person is being horribly murdered!" she whispered in awe, amber eyes blinking toward the end of the hallway where the sounds came from.

"Are you trying to _kill_ me?!"

The furious statement was answered with an impatient growl. "You can do it by yourself, you don't need me! How damn hard is it to sit still? For a second? One stupid little second?"

"Next to you? Just fucking shoot me." And then came the dreaded pause. "What are you doing with that needle?"

She mumbled something and for that small tender moment there was nothing but blissful silence. Then came the sounds of a mad scuffle, the sound of the table being rammed aside, the sound of impending _doom_. Jet looked down the hallway to see that one of the four intruders had awoken and by the look on his face he was wishing he had stayed unconscious. He set down the pan of bell peppers and began to stomp down the corridor just as Spike landed on the floor, scrambling to escape.

"Jet!"

He instantly turned back around, waving his cybernetic arm. "I don't know and I have no opinion," came his usual response.

Faye landed on Spike's back, yanking at his fuzzy green hair. She brandished the needle maliciously, straddling him. "It'll only hurt for the _rest of your life-"_

The intruder's face paling, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he fell unconscious once more.

"Jet! I swear to God I'll hit her!" Spike shouted in desperation.

"Someone already beat you to it!"

"Spike-person is bleeding," Ed stated helpfully, pointing.

Faye paused as Spike stopped in mid-struggle, glancing toward his bare shoulder. Sure enough the previous gunshot wound was bleeding through its bandage. Faye quickly got up off him and he turned onto his rear and inspected the damage.

"Aw, shit."

"See?" she motioned. "Now I have two wounds to stitch up! You're giving me twice the work-"

"No fucking way!" Spike shouted at her and he noticed that at this angle from the floor she seemed a hell of a lot more imposing, especially with that shiny needle in her hand. "You are not sewing me up!"

Faye looked toward the cook as he reached the kitchen once more. "Jet!"

"Nope." He was not about to hear it.

Faye grumbled, her fist trembling, and as she looked at Spike once more she tossed her hair with a small, "Hmph!" and plopped back down on the couch, waving the needle wildly. "Fine. Bleed to death. See if I care." She leaned forward to put on the tv.

"Finally. A good idea," Spike mumbled, still examining the wound. He grimaced as he slowly tugged at the tape holding the gauze to the gunshot wound and then began to pull back the soaked bandage.

Faye watched him out of the corner of her eye.

He pulled the bandage free, one eye narrowing cynically, and tossed it onto the table where it plopped and splattered.

"Hey! Oh, ewww!" Faye shouted, her face contorting. "That's disgusting!"

"You've seen worse," he snorted, staring at his wound with narrowed eyes.

Faye sat forward once more. "Let me just look at it!" she tried again.

"No," Spike stated and he shoved Ein away as the data dog sniffed at him, lifting a paw to his knee. "Get away, cannibal." He ignored the dog's whimper as he rose unsteadily and floated down the corridor, poking at his wound.

Ed watched him, a finger to her bottom lip. "Spike-person is the same," she murmured, still in front of the open fridge.

Jet shooed her out of the way, closing it. "What's that you said?" he asked brusquely and he glanced up as Faye came out into the hallway, hesitant.

"When Spike-person left, Bebop was sad," Ed explained with wide eyes. "And now that Spike-person is back, Bebop is still sad." And she pointed at Faye.

The female bounty hunter noticed them watching her and she instantly gave them both the finger before whirling and storming back into the living room.

"Nothing's changed, huh, Ed?" Jet said softly.

Ed did not respond but Jet understood.

* * *

Faye paused outside the door to the bathroom, listening for a moment, the needle still in her hand. He was still inside, she could hear the water running. From the kitchen came the sound of plates and utensils being shifted about and she glanced over quickly before rapping on the door before her. "Hey, Spike. Come on-"

"No."

She felt her eyebrow twitch. "You don't even know what I'm about to ask you!" she growled.

"You're about to ask me if I would seriously let you stitch me up like a torn stuffed animal," he replied above the sound of the rushing water.

"I've stitched you up before!" she cried indignantly.

"Oh, is that where that scar came from?" he threw at her through the door.

Faye tried to stop the murderous anger inside. "All right, that's it. Open the damn door or I'm coming in!"

"No way!" he shouted. "Besides, what if I were taking a crap? Would you still try to get in?!" he sounded absentminded as he said it and the water slowed a bit.

"Like I would ever want to see you taking a crap," she mumbled and a moment later the door slid open. She recoiled a bit in surprise and he merely glared at her, bent over the sink. Uncertainly she entered the small bathroom, looking around to make sure there was nothing about to jump out and surprise her. Once sure she was safe she glanced down. The sides of the sink were littered with bloody gauze strips and the blood running down his arm showed no sign of slowing.

Spike rubbed his eyes wearily with his one good hand, hunched over the sink. He looked pale and tired. Beaten. She stared at him for a moment, silently, and he lowered his hand back to the side of the sink, waiting for her.

"You can stop staring at me now," he said to her and he lifted his head to look at himself in the small bathroom cabinet mirror, squinting at his reflection. He obviously saw the same thing she saw for he bowed his head once more, averting his gaze.

She wondered what he thought in that one moment, having seen himself. If he had liked what he had seen in himself.

With an inward sigh she tapped the console and allowed the door to slide closed behind her. "All right, slide over. Sit on the toilet seat."

Wordlessly he did as she asked, which did sort of surprise her a bit. He plopped down heavily, his long legs stretching out before him and she pulled free a towel from the small rack on the wall, quickly handing it to him.

"Jet's going to kill you," he mumbled as he applied it to the wounds, the first being an angry looking hole close to his shoulder, the second a swollen graze barely inches away.

"Jet's going to kill _you,_" she corrected as she bent and picked up the first aid kit from under the sink. The metal box was cold to the touch as was the floor and most likely the toilet tank Spike leaned against. She quickly picked up the soiled gauze pads and tossed them into the wastebasket, clearing the sink and opening the first aid kit with one hand. Almost like an expert, she thought with a small measure of pride. She was going to have to disinfect her hands and the needle once more and she set upon the task silently as Spike shifted, his head leaning far enough back to rest against the wall behind the toilet tank. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply and he was painfully thin, she realized. He had been thin before, always lanky, with ridiculously clunky shoes but now that she gazed at him he was almost malnourished, his skin a shade too pale. She turned her face away knowing he would make a crack if he happened to open his eyes to catch her staring at him. She didn't need a repeat of what had gone down before when he had first shown up. Which was a reminder. He still hadn't explained why he was back nor what had happened.

Finished with the disinfecting, she began to string some thread competently. "So, what have you been up to?" she asked him quietly, feeling very uncomfortable. She wanted to open the door to allow some familiar noise to filter through, even the noise of the television, but at the same time she wanted it quiet so that she could work. It was not going to be pretty.

"I've been bleeding to death, if you really need to know," he drawled, his eyes still closed. He shifted again, his hand pulling at the knees of his loose fitting dark pants.

Faye rolled her eyes as she crouched beside him, fitting herself between the toilet bowl and the sink. "Are you ever going to explain where you went off to after the whole thing with Vicious and…um, Julia?" she asked reluctantly.

"Maybe one day," he sighed, sounding as if he were barely there.

Faye lifted her hand to his and tugged at the towel, silently urging him to remove his hand. His fingers loosened and she looked at the towel for a moment. Yeah, Jet was definitely going to kill someone over that towel. She soaked a clean edge with alcohol and dabbed at the first wound, the graze. "I think you owe us more than a _'Maybe one day',"_ she murmured to him, squinting at the graze critically. That one would be an easy one to fix.

"Faye," he said sleepily, "I don't owe you shit."

She looked at him quickly, her eyes widening. And then, anger sparking inside her, she rubbed at the graze, wiping away the drying blood roughly. He grimaced, his eyes opening into slits, and he looked at her.

"Watch it-"

She ignored him for a moment, still dabbing and then she tossed aside the towel, going in with the needle with all the care of a MAC truck. "Why?" she demanded through clenched teeth as his jaw tightened, his frame stiffening. "I don't owe you shit either."

"Damn it-"

The first wound was sealed quickly, gauze and a bandage rolled around it to protect it. He settled after a bit of it, seeming to get used to the pain and Jet even appeared at the bathroom door in the middle of it, offering a bottle of brandy that she had passed over to him after taking a swig of it herself.

"_I'm_ the fucking patient, damn it…"

"How's he looking?" Jet asked.

"Like a piece of shit," she replied and then adding innocently, "Oh, you mean the wound…"

Jet left after a moment of further chatter, with the last word that breakfast was ready if they wanted some. She hardly thought she would be able to stomach anything, looking at the blood and dirtied pads. She glanced at him once more, deciding he needed to eat something, if anything to take the edge off the alcohol. She doubted he had eaten anything yet and most likely that alcohol was going full force on his empty stomach. Shaking her head she brought herself back to the stitching at hand.

_It's time to go…_

She frowned as she thought it, as the words rolled around in her head. Was it time to go, really? No, not yet. She wasn't sure it would ever be time to go, to leave the Bebop. They took care of her here. Well, Jet took care of her here. Ed and Ein were there for decoration. And Spike…he was there to piss her off.

_It's time to be on your own again. To stop caring for others. Remember what it was like when you lived off bounty to bounty, quite literally? Doing what you wanted, when you wanted to? Remember what it was like before you felt like you were taking care of a damned family? What it was like before…before you started caring for Jet and Ed? What it was like before you fell for the lunkhead? Remember-_

She tore the thread as she finished, her face dark. She remembered. She remembered only too well. She had been stumbling around, lost. Just another face without a memory. And she had been miserable, living off nothing, flying around on the Redtail aimlessly. Her life had been crap and now, it had some kind of meaning, didn't it? She did things for a reason, was part of a team. A family. They were her family whether she wanted it or not. She hadn't wanted to believe it after they had all started drifting away, first Ed with Ein and then Spike himself, on his little quest for vengeance and glory. And yet slowly but surely they had all found their way back, reuniting. That meant something, didn't it?

Dare she say it was Fate?

She applied the gauze and then wound a bandage around his entire shoulder, shifting him a bit. He seemed very unconscious but his fingers gripped the bottle of alcohol firmly enough. Finishing up she put aside the needle and the thread into the First Aid kit and closed it, setting it back under the sink. The towel went into the wastebasket as did the used wrappers and pads and she finally turned away, tapping the console.

"Are we done?"

She paused as the door slid open, turning her head but not meeting his eyes. "You are," she murmured. "I haven't even started yet." And she walked out, allowing the door to slide shut behind herself.

* * *

"So, how was your morning?" Jet asked the intruders cheerfully, standing before them and holding a mug of steaming coffee. He glanced up as Spike floated into the room, pulling on a light blue-green shirt while juggling his own cup of coffee, his eyes weary. Beside the couch Ed happily tapped away on Tomato, her goggles lowered over her eyes.

"We ain't saying shit," one of them said instantly, his face sullen.

"That just makes it more fun for us," Spike said lazily, tossing himself onto the couch and then rethinking it as pain stung.

Faye sauntered in as well, picking at a plate of bell peppers. She looked at the group of four as they looked at her and she paused, glancing at herself and then lifting a hand to her face. "What? Do I have something on my face?" she asked.

Spike motioned to the corner of his mouth and she swiped at her mouth, wincing when she jabbed at the bruise coloring the skin. With a sardonic smile to show how much she had not appreciated that she plopped down onto the seat, back to her peppers as Spike chuckled.

"So," Jet went on, bringing his attention back to the four. "Can I get you breakfast? Coffee? Bell peppers? A good ass-whoopin'?" he asked with a smile.

The four merely stared at him wordlessly,

"No? Ok, then. Let's start with how you got on my damned ship," he said and his voice lowered into a growl. He picked up a communicator he had obviously taken off one of them and he flung it the one who had opened his mouth earlier. "Who do you answer to?" he demanded as the communicator struck the man in the face.

"Oooh, Ed, get the camera!" Faye said instantly, sitting up in the seat. "You did get the camera like I asked you to, right?"

Ed nodded cheerfully, a wide evil grin spreading across her face. Without another word but with a zooming sound she threw her hands out at her sides and took off, Ein barking and racing off behind her.

"I hate cameras," Spike said in a mischievous undertone, smiling and then closing his eyes and lifting his arms carefully to cushion his head.

"I asked you a question," Jet snarled, taking hold of one of them by the collar and yanking him up as far as the handcuffs allowed.

"We don't answer to scum like you," the man replied coldly.

Faye picked at her bell peppers, already bored. Before her Spike lifted his legs and plopped them on the table with a loud clunk. The intruders glanced at him, all except for the one whose face Jet breathed into. "That right?" he asked the man. And he tossed him back against the railing before splashing him in the face with his steaming cup of coffee. The intruder screamed in pain, coffee trailing down his face and burning his skin.

Faye's eyes widened. And quickly both she and Spike instantly reached for Spike's own mug of coffee, Faye motioning impatiently as he took a quick gulpful of the coffee before handing it to her. She took a gulp herself and was already handing the remainder of it to Jet as he reached behind himself for it wordlessly, his glare aimed on another intruder.

"Damn it, where is Ed with that camera?"

"Want me to bring the coffeepot?" Spike asked helpfully, smiling slightly.

"Nah," Jet replied and he looked at his group. "I think we should split them up and interrogate them separately. And then we can switch. Sound like a plan?"

Spike rose faster than he should have, easing around the table. "Let me get my gun."

And a moment later Faye nodded quickly, setting aside the bell peppers. "Oh, me too, me too!" And they both floated off down the corridor for their respective rooms leaving the intruders to look after them in disbelief.

Jet turned back to the group of trespassers. "And you haven't even really met the hacker," he said to them. "She's the one who gave me this." And he motioned to his cybernetic arm.

"Ok, ok!" one of them suddenly shouted and Jet looked toward him quickly. "I'll tell you!"

"You will?" Jet asked in surprise, his eyes wide. And then straightening, "I mean, you will! Damn right, before I go get the kid!"

"What are you doing?" another hissed to the one who had volunteered to give information.

"I'm not about to get my ass killed on this ship! No way!" the guy shouted back. "I didn't sign on for this-"

His partner stared at him for a moment before settling, shaking his head. "Damn mercs," he growled and he turned his face away, glancing toward the intruder who had coffee running down his face.

Jet pulled up the chair before the man and plopped down. "Ok. Who do you work for?"

The intruder sighed weakly, his head hanging low. "His name's Black Jack."

Jet's eyes widened for a moment and he whipped his head to the side in the direction Faye and Spike had gone. They were both coming out of their rooms, Faye checking her clip for bullets, Spike with his hands in his pockets. "Uh…" he called down the hall to them.

At that moment Ed popped up as well, walking backwards on her hands. "Edward has the camera!" she cried, coming from the opposite hallway and sure enough, she held the camera with her feet expertly.

"Yo, Faye," Jet called to her.

"I'm coming! Keep your panties on!" she grumbled, pausing in mid-step and frowning. Spike paused as well, looking over her shoulder and pointing something out to her.

"You might want to hear this," Jet said to them and they finally entered the main room, Faye practically hopping.

"Ok, which one do I get?" she demanded.

"Who do you work for?" Jet stressed, asking the man once more.

"He calls himself Black Jack. I don't know the guy, I swear-"

Faye paused in disbelief, her jaw dropping open and at that moment Ed took her picture, the flash nearly blinding her. "Ooooh, pretty, Faye-Faye!" she squealed and she pointed the camera at Ein next.

"_Who_ do you work for?" Faye echoed faintly.

The man looked from Jet to her and even to Ed. "Come on, I'm not making this up!" he cried frantically. "I'll tell you whatever you want, it's all the truth! Just don't feed me to the kid!"

Ed looked up with wide amber eyes. "Huh?"

"Black Jack?" Faye demanded, taking hold of him by the collar, her gun ready.

"Did we forget to mention that?" Spike asked Jet, taking the gun from Faye seeing as how she seemed ready to use it, even accidentally. "Black Jack broke out of the pen. Right before all this went down-"

"No, they broke him out!" the man corrected and he grimaced as Faye began to choke him, shaking his body as if he were a rag doll. He choked for a moment, wheezing. "Get her off me!"

Jet quickly took hold of her and yanked her off, shooing her backward. "He can't tell us anything if he's dead," he growled at her.

"Yeah," Faye snarled, her hands clenched. "But he doesn't need all ten toes…"

"She's got a point," Spike whistled.

"No, come on! Come on!" the man cried. "I swear it's the truth! The guy's name is Black Jack and he didn't break out. They broke him out. He has this huge ass fucking empire! The guy's rich! He owns tons of the casinos on Mars! And he has people working for him everywhere! I don't know what you did to piss the guy off but he's looking for _her!"_ And he recoiled as Faye growled once more.

Spike glanced at her. "What _did_ you do to piss him off?" he asked her.

"I didn't do anything!" she shouted furiously. "All I did was ask Ed to get me a bounty," and she looked at Ed.

Ed took a picture of the man with the coffee streaming down his face, causing him to flinch. "Edward got Faye-Faye a bounty!" she piped up.

Faye motioned as if to say, _'See?'_

"He's wanted her for awhile," the guy said and he looked at her as she whirled back around. "I don't know who you are, lady, but he's been looking for you."

"Why?" she asked him.

He shook his head silently, seeming genuinely apologetic for not knowing.

Jet looked at both her and Spike. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded of them both. "What do you guys know?"

Faye plopped herself down on the couch as Spike handed her back her gun. "Down, boy, down," he said as she snatched it from him, glaring at the other side of the room where the intruders all watched her. He turned to Jet as the bigger man motioned Ed away from the intruders. "It was on the news before these guys showed up. Black Jack broke out of prison. No leads or anything," he shrugged.

"He didn't break out," the guy repeated and he leaned forward as they all turned to look at him. "He has these people working for him, everyone from people like me, hired guns, to top-secret agents. All cold blood. And he has this hacker, a fucking _genius!_ The guy can get him in and out of all kinds of security, all kinds of problems! The hacker got him out of fucking jail!"

"But who _is_ he?" Faye asked him impatiently.

He shook his head at her once more. "I don't know. Black Jack ain't even his real name. I don't know his real name and I don't want to find out. I just wanna get my ass outta here. You have to give me a head start, come on-"

"But you haven't told us anything!" Faye cried.

"Because I don't know!" he shouted back. "Look, lady, I don't care about who you are. You look like a hooker from where I used to live and if you wanna live like that be my fucking guest, but there ain't now way I'm sticking around for him to find me! I'm getting my ass outta here the second you let me go and you better think about doing the same thing!"

Spike blinked, turning to Jet. "Are we in real danger here?" he asked as if he didn't understand.

The man blanched in disbelief.

"We should definitely get off Mars," Faye answered, and she rubbed her eyes wearily, clutching her Glock absentmindedly. "For a little while, let's just stay away from here-"

"You better run far," the guy muttered. "The safest you'd be would be in a fucking jail cell under a different name. And he might find you even there-"

"Definitely off Mars," Spike mused. "I'm supposedly dead here anyway. Can't be popping up alive." He motioned to the intruders. "What do you wanna do with them?"

Jet smiled at them, already leaving out the snitch. "Think there's a bounty on any of them?"


	12. Of Gay Pride and Watermelons

Of Gay Pride and Watermelons:

"So, hey, not bad. We got to hand in a few felons and get some money for them. This is a good job…" Spike sighed, leaning back in the couch, lifting his legs onto the table and crossing his arms behind his head.

Jet nodded from his seat on the chair, hunched over thoughtfully. Spike glanced from him to Faye who sat almost directly before him on the table, her legs crossed, chewing on a stubborn fingernail. Her gaze was blank, staring at the couch and Spike stared at her for a moment.

"I have such a lively crew here…"

"I'm lively. Me, over here," a voice called from the railing and Spike glanced over with a bored expression to the snitch, still handcuffed.

"I think it was a bad idea to send Edward to get food for the ship," Jet mumbled and he ran his large hands over his baldhead.

Faye remained silent, Spike glancing at him once more. "Don't want to see the fridge full of junk food? Hell, I'll take junk food anytime over the stuff you cook," he said graciously.

"Mmm, food. There's a thought," the snitch said with a small note of reminder in his tone.

"I'll go look for her," Faye murmured and she stood up, absentmindedly knocking aside Spike's legs to pass. "I need some air anyways…"

"Alone?" Jet asked her, turning to follow her as she brushed by him as well.

"Hello? Does anyone remember me? I'm the one who let you in on Black Jack's secrets. Can I get some food here? Maybe a cup of water?"

Faye frowned at Jet. "I'm a big girl, daddy, I can cross the street alone," she said to him sardonically. "I'll only be gone for a little while. I'm so bored of being here, it's stifling. Besides, if I don't find her it's because I'll have taught her well and she finally left with our money." And she shrugged, floating off. The snitch watched her walk off quietly, pursing his lips.

Spike looked after her with a bored expression as Jet turned back around. "You and me, Jet. Just the way I like it-"

"What about me? I'm here, too."

"Go with her, Spike," Jet said.

"Huh?" Spike stared at him as if he hadn't heard correctly and please god, someone tell him he hadn't heard correctly.

"I said go with her," Jet repeated.

"Why?!" he burst out, plopping his legs back on the table. "She said it herself, she's a big girl. She doesn't need anyone holding her hand-"

"Because you know as well as I do that there's more than just a bounty on her head now!" Jet replied. "You know the second someone working for that guy finds her they'll pick her up-"

"Then she shouldn't be going out!" Spike retorted, his face darkening with anger.

"And you know that we can't stop her from doing what she wants to do," Jet continued as if he hadn't even spoken. "She's going to go off and do what she wants to do without a second thought to anyone else on this ship-"

"And how is that my fault again?"

"And I would like to keep some semblance of a crew on this damned ship!" Jet shouted at him, shutting him up for a moment. Even the snitch looked uncomfortable around the anger. "I don't like the fact that since you came back she's become gung-ho about everything. It's like having two of you! One was enough for me and I don't need to be worrying about either of you!"

Spike stared at him, his jaw clenched. "I am not going with her. We haven't been the best of friends lately, I don't need to go through hours of hearing her bitch and moan at me about the things I do. It's none of her business anyway, what I do. In fact, fuck it, why don't you go with her?!"

"None of you should be going," the snitch said with a shake of his head.

Jet returned his glare. "Because," he said very softly, "You know a hell of a lot better than me that you're better at this than I am. If something happens to her I can't protect her better than you can-"

Spike threw him a look that easily read, 'Give me a fucking break', slumping low in his seat. "This is bullshit, Jet," he growled at him. "And since when have you been so damn protective of her? What happened to the whole, _'I don't give a shit, just go but leave our money' _attitude you used to have-"

"You left, Spike," he said simply and he rose to his feet. "A lot of things change when you lose someone." He turned away from him, already storming off. "Go with her. I'll watch over the Bebop. And our uninvited guest."

Spike glared after him, stunned into silence. And then, with an impatient growl he rose, his feet hitting the floor hard, and he went toward the hangar.

The snitch looked after Jet and then in the opposite direction toward Spike. "This whole ship is crazy…"

* * *

"Where are you going?" Faye asked Spike as he entered the hangar, frowning as she started up her Redtail.

He lit a cigarette, shoving it into his mouth and flinging the used match. "Shut the hell up and get into the ship," he threw at her coldly and he strode over to his Swordfish II.

Faye stared at him, her lips parting. "What the hell?!" she demanded of him, her face darkening with anger. "What the fuck did I do now that you're so mad at?"

He hopped up onto a wing, climbing toward his seat. "You exist, Faye, is that enough?" he retorted and he hopped into the cockpit, starting up the Swordfish II.

Faye blinked in disbelief. "You know what, hold on a sec! Pull that stick out of your ass and tell me why the hell you're mad now!" she called over to him.

He instead appeared over her communications, his face dark with what could very well have been fury. "I don't like being ordered to escort you around Mars!" he said to her icily. "I'm not your fucking-"

"I don't want to be escorted!" she shouted at his face, pulling her seal shut. "I didn't ask you to come along! I didn't ask you to take me everywhere! I'm going because I need to get some fucking air! Stay for all I care! In fact, if you're going to have this attitude the whole damn time you _better_ stay!"

He ignored her, sealing his own ship up and he looked toward the hangar doors.

"Spike-" she said to him, attempting a calm approach.

"Open the door," he ordered.

Faye clenched her jaw, staring at his face as he continued to look toward the hangar doors. And then, with an inward sigh she pointed her bracelet toward it and clicked a button. The hangar doors began to slide open with a loud clang and she had barely lowered her hand before he was already lifting into the air, directing his Swordfish II toward the doors.

"Spike-"

Wordlessly he took off, cutting off communications.

Faye stared after him, watching him go and she lifted a hand to her head with a sigh. This was not the way she wanted to clear her head.

* * *

"Ed. Ed, do you read me? Ed," Faye tapped a few buttons on her console, scanning the area for the hacker. She had been dropped off earlier by Jet to pick up the groceries since handing in the intruders to the ISSP had rewarded them with several thousand woolongs. Faye had been damned thrilled about the prospect of having real food on the ship. But now, looking for the hacker, she wished the girl had just stayed aboard the Bebop.

"Faye-Faye," Ed's face appeared on her communications and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Ed! Where are you? Spike and I are coming to pick you up," she said to the girl's face as the image wavered and flickered.

"Edward is in the supermarket!" the girl said cheerfully as someone shouted in the background.

"Hey! No dogs allowed! Can't you read the sign?!"

Ed turned away for a second, her lips parting. "Ooooh, Edward is in trouble," she murmured and she turned back around, grinning widely. "Bye-bye, Faye-Faye!" And she cut off the communications.

"Hey-" Faye cried and she hunched forward wearily. "I don't believe this…"

The Swordfish II suddenly swerved in front of her and she pulled up short, cursing, as Spike began to descend. She clenched her fists furiously around her controls, gritting her teeth.

"That _asshole-"_

Spike lowered his Swordtail II to the ground in an empty parking lot, blowing air around the ship as he landed. Controlling her harsh language Faye touched down beside him and instantly opened her door, screaming at him. "What the _fuck?!"_ she demanded. "Next time warn me!"

Spike already had the ship off and he hopped out, sealing it up once more and then lowering himself to the ground. Wordlessly he started off without her, leaving her still in the Redtail.

Faye sealed up her ship, intent on racing after him as he strode out into the street, weaving through the crowds of people food shopping and chatting. And she suddenly realized she didn't want to. She stepped out into the middle of the crowded street, watching his lean frame as he walked off and she glanced down the avenue toward the next block. Pulling out her communicator she called for Ed again.

"Ed? You there?"

The hacker's face appeared a moment later, Ein's canine mug shoved against her neck as she carried him on her back. "Faye-Faye!" she squealed.

"Ed! Geez, where are you?" she demanded and she realized the communication was scrambling and that Ed was hopping too much. "Are you running?"

"Hai! Edward took a watermelon! It's heavy!" she replied and her image jumped.

"Hey! Grab that kid! He took a watermelon!" came an angry voice from behind Ed.

"Edward's a _girl!"_ Ed shouted over her shoulder.

"Aw, man, Ed!" Faye groaned, slapping her forehead with a palm. "Where are you? I'm near-" and she paused to look up at the street signs. "Jameson and Barneby."

"Edward is on the other side of town!" Ed said with a giggle and her image jumped once more.

"The other side of-" Faye shouted and she cursed before whirling and racing back toward her Redtail. "Give me your location. I'll come pick you up."

"Sending coordinates now," Ed said with a low, throaty giggle. "Isn't this fun, Ein?"

Ein barked happily and in the background, as Ed ran, Faye saw the people chasing the hacker. She pulled her remote out, clicking a button and the Redtail came to life as she skid to a stop before it. She tossed herself in as the cockpit seal sprang open, instantly shutting it behind herself and stabbing several buttons. "Ed! I'm about ten minutes away," she said as the Redtail lifted off once more, the parking lot dropping away. "Hide your ass!"

"Ooh, hide and seek!" Ed giggled and she cut communications.

"Damn kid," Faye grumbled and she pushed off, racing across the sky.

* * *

Below, Spike whirled, hearing the familiar engines of the Redtail and a moment later the ship flew by the street, climbing into the sky. He stared for a moment in utter disbelief before taking off back toward his Swordfish II.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

* * *

Ed paused in mid-run, looking down the quiet alleyway. Ein's breath was hot, warming her neck as she looked around nonchalantly. "Ein, where should Ed hide?" she asked the dog innocently, eyeing the gloomy blackness. "Down that way?" she motioned, clutching the watermelon.

Ein barked in reply.

"It's so dark and spoooooky," she murmured in a ghostly tone and she passed the alleyway, looking to the side as music reached her ears suddenly. "Oh, Ein, what's that?!"

People were passing along the avenue, a large group surrounding floats and balloons. Ed squealed happily, already racing down the street. "Parade, parade, parade!" she cried and behind her came the sudden sound of scuffling, pounding of footsteps.

"There he is!"

With a low chuckle Ed skipped along, flinging herself headlong into the crowd. She rammed into a girl who looked at her quickly, a white bandanna with a strange symbol on the front.

"Ed is sorry," Ed apologized.

"It's ok," the girl responded and she wore a brightly colored shirt to go with the bandanna. "That's a pretty watermelon you have."

"Thanks! Ed was hungry."

"So am I," the girl replied. She motioned the parade. "Do you support Gays and Lesbians, too?" she asked cheerfully.

"Ed is neither or," the hacker answered. "Ed likes the balloons."

"Oh, ok. Then here," she produced a bandanna for the hacker. "For you. I have no more balloons to give out."

"Thank you!" Ed crowed happily. She motioned to the data dog on her back. "That's Ein."

"Hello, Ein, nice to meet you," the girl smiled.

* * *

Faye looked down as her communications beeped and she jabbed a button. "Ed?"

Spike's disgruntled face came on and she groaned inwardly. "Hardly," he responded in a cold voice. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

She clutched her controls tightly. "I'm picking up Ed, remember?"

"Why the hell did you take off?" he demanded.

She felt her anger rise once more at his icy tone. "You know, fuck this, Spike. I'm not going to answer every damned question you throw at me. I'm doing what I came to and if you don't like it you can go back to the ship. I don't need your stupid ass trailing me everywhere I go." And she cut the communications.

That had felt good. That had felt surprisingly good. And she knew before the day was over she was going to live to regret it.

* * *

Ed looked up, hugging the watermelon to her chest as the Redtail raced by overhead. "Faye-Faye!" she cried and she looked toward her new friend. "Edward has to go now."

"Oh, ok," the girl sounded crestfallen. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Ed."

Thinking quickly, Ed saddled her with the watermelon. "Thank you to you!" she said merrily and she wove her way through the crowd in the direction the Redtail had taken, Ein barking in her ear.

* * *

Faye touched down gingerly in another deserted parking lot, ignoring the man at the booth as he came at her. "Hey! You can't park that thing there! Those spots are reserved!"

Faye looked around at the mass emptiness, climbing out of the Redtail. "Yeah, I see," she murmured. "Look, have you seen this little kid? Bright red hair, toothpick body, has a slobbering beast on her back and carrying a watermelon?"

"Huh?!"

Overhead, the Swordfish II flew by, slowing, and Faye looked up quickly. Most likely he hadn't seen her but if he had her coordinates he would find her soon enough. She looked at the man once more as he continued to stutter and she frowned at him.

"You're still talking?"

"Faye-Faye!" came the enthusiastic voice and she turned to look. Ed came running down the street, holding onto the sack on her back that held Ein, a white bandanna on her head with the Gay Pride colors.

"Whoa, Ed, I didn't know," she remarked, staring at the bandanna as the hacker hopped up and, looking at her once more she asked with widening eyes, "Where's the watermelon?!"

Ed paused, lifting a finger to her chin. "Edward lost it somewhere," she replied thoughtfully.

"You lost it?!" Faye echoed in disbelief and she sighed. "Whatever. Do you have the money card Jet gave you?"

Ed brandished it with a big smile.

"Ok, let's go," Faye sighed once more and she turned, pulling herself back into the cockpit. "You're going to have to crouch because I'm not carrying you on my lap," she said as she slid into her seat. "And carry Ein! I don't even want to smell-"

Something struck the metal wall of the Redtail loudly, leaving behind a ringing sound and Faye straightened, arching back out of the cockpit to look. Lifting her eyes she stared at the dented metal of the Redtail's wall with a bemused expression. And then-

"Oh, shit."

Ed instantly squeaked, pulling herself further into the tiny space of the cockpit and Faye reached toward her blindly as she looked up toward the buildings surrounding the parking lot. She couldn't see the shooter in any windows but she did catch an unfamiliar ship as it rose off the roof of one of the buildings, her eyes narrowing.

The booth operator looked about wildly, opening his mouth to start yelling and a second shot caught him in the middle of his forehead. A small sound escaped Faye as she stared with widening eyes at the body that toppled against the glass of her cockpit, blood splattering.

"Faye-Faye! Faye-Faye! Come on!" Ed cried from the cockpit, her arm caught in Faye's grip.

"It's him," Faye whispered, staring up at the ship hovering over the building. "It's him, isn't it?"

"Faye-Faye!"

Faye looked toward Ed quickly, her mind a complete blank. And then, rather brusquely, she released the hacker's arm and took hold of her head of wild hair instead, shoving her back into the cockpit and sealing it after her.

"Faye!" Ed cried in a voice muffled by the seal, sitting back up and placing her hands on the glass to look out at her.

Bullets struck the glass, ricocheting and causing Ed to recoil backward once more. And not for the first time was Faye thankful that the glass was bulletproof. She stabbed the button on her bracelet remote, shouting into it, "Go!" and the Redtail came to life again, air blowing roughly.

Ed banged on the glass once more, the sound muffled, and with another flick to the remote the Redtail lifted off, instantly shooting upward into the sky. Ducking her head Faye turned and ran, aware of the bullets biting into the pavement at her feet.

He wanted her alive. Well, she was going to make it hard for him.

She made it to the chain link fence at the back of the parking lot and she threw herself on it, easily scaling it and flinging herself over it onto dirt and pebbly turf. She hadn't survived over three years on her own by doing nothing.

A bullet bit into the brick wall she found herself up against. She moved toward her left, to follow the wall but instantly changed her mind as she saw that it led to a dead end. She dove in the other direction, keeping her arms over her head as the bullets broke into the brick wall. She reached the end of the chain link fence and the small passage opened up into an alleyway, cold dark buildings on either side as she broke into a full-fledged run.

_Damn these heels._

Coming to the edge of the alleyway she looked around and tore into the direction away from the parade. The block ended several feet away and as she ran by several parked cars one of them turned on, lights blinking, and bullets broke from inside, shattering the glass and pelting the ground at her feet.

_They're everywhere. They're everywhere-_

She made it to the edge of the block, her breathing rapid, and the only noise was the distant sounds of the parade and the gunfire all around. The sidewalks seemed to be falling apart under her feet as she raced across a street without looking, flinching as an oncoming car's tires screeched. It careened to a halt beside her and she glanced over her shoulder quickly to see more people getting out, people in the same uniform the intruders aboard the Bebop had been wearing. She counted six of them as they got out and raced to follow her.

_Shit! Shit, shit, shit!_

Turning back around she suddenly saw the small group of old men crowded around a tiny table out in front of a rundown stoop and she made a small sound as she barely managed to jump and slide across the table surface, knocking and upsetting a deck of cards and cigarette trays. "Shit!" she screamed, stumbling onto the other side of the table as it tipped under her weight. With a furious growl, she whirled on the three old men that had been sitting crowded around the table and shrieking her rage at them she took hold of the side of the table and flung it, easily catching two of her chasers with it and sending them sprawling. With one last glare at the three men, she whirled once more and continued on, racing for her life.

"She was in a hurry. I haven't been in a hurry like that since…since…" one of the old men, a tall, dark-skinned man with a yellow shirt murmured, slowly looking up toward the sky in thought. "Since we dug that gate that time…before I could remember…"

"Since before ya could remember," another one, a man in a white shirt and wearing a red and white cap, said for him.

"Since before I can remember…" the first agreed with a scratch sigh.

The third merely nodded, staring at the fallen deck of cards.

Another moment later the remaining chasers flew by, kicking aside the table some more to get by and the three old men merely watched it all happen silently.

"We should have gone to the casinos…"

Faye raced by buildings, stumbling as she fell into cracks, running blindly across the streets and her lungs began to burn. Another alleyway was coming up and she quickly reached out for a trashcan, sending it tipping and rolling into the path of her followers. One of them collided with it, she heard it, and she dove into the alleyway, her boots splashing stained water as she ran. At the end the alleyway opened up into another street, bright sunlight streaming in and she pushed herself toward it, running faster. If she could leave her followers behind-

The ship appeared at the mouth of the alleyway, hovering threateningly and slowly shifting to point its cannons into the alleyway.

Faye slid to a stop in disbelief, staring before looking over her shoulder. They were coming from behind as well, five of them, and two of them must have joined the pack from the first car.

Explosions sounded suddenly, deafening her, and as she whirled back around she watched as the ship took several hits, fire and smoke bursting as it pitched sideways. And the Swordfish II flew by the mouth of the alley as the ship crashed down and exploded into a ball of fire and rough, burning winds. She allowed a smile to break out over her face at the wreckage but her relief was short-lived as she realized that the fiery wreckage of the ship barred her only escape route out of the alleyway. Behind her came the sound of footsteps and she automatically whirled with a spinning kick, pulling out her Glock as she did so. Her foot crashed against a man's face and she fired a round into the face of another. Both of them toppled and a third took hold of her wrist, shoving it aside, a punch catching her directly in the previous bruise. Blood rose from her lip and she glared, whipping her head around once more.

"I thought you wanted me alive," she snarled at her attacker and she caught his fist as he went to punch again, lashing outward with a front kick past that attacker into a fourth man's groin.

"Alive. But broken if necessary," the man holding her growled back. And even as he said it the last man took hold of her other arm. Faye looked over quickly, her eyes widening as the first man rose before her and latched onto her neck, squeezing. Her hand tightened around her Glock but the man holding her wrist pinched it enough to crush.

"What're you doing?" one of them questioned him angrily, grabbing hold of the hand clamped on her neck. "He wants her alive-"

The man choking her shook off the other attacker furiously, suddenly brandishing a long hypodermic needle. Faye stared, her eyes widening and a moment later he stabbed it into her arm roughly, draining the liquid into her. Faye grimaced, trying to recoil and she felt as he injected the cold fluid into her. Her limbs almost instantly stiffened, the hand clutching the Glock loosening and dropping the weapon, her vision blurring. She shook her head, stepping backward as he released her and ramming into another of the attackers.

"What did you-" she muttered, shaking her head once more to clear the sudden dizziness. Her legs gave out under her for a moment and she struggled for another sure step, attempting to straighten her legs under her to hold her weight but they continued to wobble. She felt one of the figures slip behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and hefting her upward. There was the quick shot of brilliant blue sky and then she was hitched over on his shoulder, turned to hang face down limply. "Wait…no-"

"Come on, get her to the-"

Air suddenly blew, tossing dirt aside, and Faye managed to crane her neck over the man's shoulder, squinting through her blurred vision. She caught sight of the large red object and her inner voice told her it was the Swordfish II. She blinked, her vision coming into focus momentarily, and the Swordfish II hung in the alleyway, several feet off the ground before her. The man holding her whirled and she found herself facing away from the ship as her attackers instantly pulled out weapons of their own, pointing them at Spike's ship.

"He's going to give me shit for this," Faye groaned. And she straightened her leg before suddenly ramming her knee into her attacker's chest. The man hunched over reflexively, clutching at his chest and she did it once more, this time bringing her knee roughly into his hand. Bones cracked and he let out a growl, taking hold of her and shoving her off him. Faye caught a quickly glimpse of the sky above as she rolled off his shoulder and she landed on one knee roughly, falling onto her side. She lifted her hazy vision and she caught sight of the large blur that was the man.

He reached down, taking hold of a bunchful of her hair and he whispered, "You're pissing me off now, lady. I'm beginning to think your life's not worth what I'm getting paid-"

"Are you going to shoot me or not?" Faye retorted, wishing for once she could have some control over her mouth. Being shot up with drugs seemed to feel the same way as being drunk. She clenched her jaw as he yanked her closer, her body dragging across the ground and a moment later he had his weapon leveled to her forehead, the cold barrel pressing into her skin. She stared at him and then merely closed her eyes, leaning into the barrel.

_Just do it. Do it already. Please, God, just let him-_

Gunshots rang out suddenly bringing her eyes open and the cockpit to the Swordfish had been thrown open. Faye looked sideways, eyes widening, as Spike rose and wordlessly began to shoot, his expression one of extreme boredom. He took one down instantly, one hand still holding onto the controls of the Swordfish II as the other squeezed off shot after shot. Faye's eyes shifted to the ground, catching sight of her Glock only a foot away. The man before her was looking toward Spike, he wouldn't see if-

Wordlessly she dove sideways, her hand reaching for the Glock. The man before her whirled at her sudden movement and she heard the gun go off, felt the bullet cut clear into her shoulder even as she scooped up the Glock. Grimacing, she immediately lifted the weapon and fired blindly, turning her face away. Blood sprayed her, any bared inch of her and even as she continued to shoot she heard his body go down in a heap.

The Swordfish II was moving. Opening her eyes she looked down at the corpse, clutching with her gun hand at the wound that had begun to bleed profusely. Lifting her eyes to the ship she saw that behind the Swordfish II another ship had appeared, an unfamiliar one. She quickly ducked away as Spike continued to shoot, aiming for one last attacker that seemed to be evading him, and the Swordfish II was slowly tilting in the alleyway, its body rolling until the ship hung upside down. Spike paused a moment, seeming to get a firm footing along the floor of his pod, his attention diverted.

Faye motioned through blurred vision, lifting her weapon as the other ship descended and Spike glanced over, his hair blown by the winds originating from the unknown ship. He turned back around, squinting down the alley and Faye rose to her feet, whirling to follow the movement of the last man who was running for his life. Too far away, she told herself. She had a range of 25 feet with her Glock, she wouldn't reach him. Neither would the Jericho. She turned back around, taking a step toward Spike and he was tucking away his weapon, looking toward her.

"Come on!" he shouted at her. And even as he said it the Swordfish II was suddenly flying at her, causing her to recoil in surprise. He wasn't about to stop, which meant-

She lifted her good arm into the air, closing her eyes, and a moment later he took hold of it, yanking her clear off the ground as the Swordfish II swept by and then lifted further up into the air. She instantly clutched his wrist as the ground dropped away under her and they flew from the dark alley out into sunlight, the Swordfish II immediately righting itself. Faye found herself tossed along the cold metal of the ship, clinging to Spike's arm for dear life.

"Get a grip!" he ordered as he concentrated on flying the ship, his hair tossed by the fierce winds.

Faye grimaced, trying to lift her arm but it was a numb limb, hanging lifelessly. "I can't," she shouted to him, wincing. "They shot me up with something-"

With a growl he pulled at her, the Swordfish II tipping a bit as he turned his attention away from his course for a moment. She found herself slipping up the side of the ship, yanked up roughly as Spike hauled her into the cockpit and dropped her to the floor.

"Get the seal!" he said to her, looking ahead once more as he tried to steer. And then, angrily, "Faye! Let go of my arm and get the fucking seal!"

Faye instantly released him as if stung and for a moment she realized she had been falling unconscious on the small space afforded her in the Swordfish II's cockpit. Straining, she rose to her feet, reaching out the back of the Swordfish II for the seal and as she looked out she saw the ship following them, her hair blowing around her face. "You've got a tail!" she cried.

"I see him," Spike said tersely, and she pulled the seal of the cockpit closed, securing it and then slipping silently to the bit of floor allowed her as all her energy left her.

"Can you outrun him?" she asked him faintly in the suddenly quiet cockpit.

"I should be able to," he responded and he glanced at her quickly as she slumped against the side of the cockpit. "You're bleeding on my floor, Faye-"

Faye couldn't have cared anymore if she had been bleeding on him. "Deal with it," she whispered and she fell into blackness silently.


	13. True Colors

**True Colors:**

"She's bleeding a hell of a lot," someone murmured close by and that was Spike's voice, seemingly uninterested. His voice came out of blackness, low and lazy. And she couldn't feel anything, couldn't make sense of where she was.

"It's slowing down," came Jet's voice and he sounded worried yet absentminded. "Ed, get me some towels."

There came the sound of pounding footsteps running off.

"He did it to her, didn't he? He got to her," an unfamiliar voice said from the side frantically. "I told you guys, he's after her!"

"Why are you still on the ship again?" asked Spike in a drawl.

And she slowly tried to open her eyes, light streaming into the darkness behind her closed eyelids. She blinked, forcing her eyes open, and standing in view before the ceiling lights was Spike, leaning in cautiously from her right and staring down at her. She stared back for a moment before realizing it was him and she groaned upon recognizing his face. "Oh, it's you."

His eyes became heavy as if she had just told a stupid joke and he puffed on a cigarette lazily. "That better not be my thanks for saving your life," he said to her.

She cocked her head a bit, seeing Jet out of the corner of her eye and he was rummaging through several sterile looking utensils. Catching sight of her looking, he paused. "You might not want to see this, Faye," he cautioned.

Her entire shoulder, along with her yellow vinyl, was soaked in blood. She grimaced at the mere sight of it, turning her face away. "Thanks, Spike. For _ruining_ my life."

He leaned a hand on the back of the yellow couch she was draped across. "Hey, I even offered to stitch you up but Jet didn't trust me."

"It's not that I don't trust you," Jet corrected gruffly. "It's that your way of doing things was never…_delicate,"_ he stressed.

Faye had a quick flash of Spike kicking the TV when it refused to work. She whimpered in mere horror.

"You're such a baby. He hasn't even started yet," Spike said to her.

"Alcohol," she said instantly. And she looked at him with a pleading look. "Come on, I gave you alcohol when I stitched you up!"

He took a drag and instead handed her his cigarette. "Figures you'd ask for that." And beside her Jet handed over a half empty bottle of brandy. She happily accepted a drag from the cigarette before going for the alcohol.

Ed zoomed back into the room, her thin arms clutching numerous towels. "Ed brought towels!" she cried and she paused beside Faye, her eyes wide. "Faye-Faye is awake."

"Wish I weren't," she mumbled, setting aside the bottle after taking a huge swig that lasted several seconds. Even Spike seemed grudgingly impressed at the amount she managed to shove down her throat. "How's my ship?" she demanded.

"Faye-Faye's ship took Ed to the Bebop. And then Jet-person came looking for Faye-Faye and Spike, and the other ship crashed!" She made the sound of a plane falling, her arms lifted, and she pitched into the table, earning a glare from Jet. With a huge, toothy smile she then handed several towels to Jet and also placed some against Faye's arm to soak up the spilled blood.

"But my ship's ok, right?" Faye asked again and Ed nodded cheerfully, grinning widely.

"Ok," Jet said and he sounded as if he was about to embark on a journey he wouldn't be coming back from alive. "I'm going in."

"Going in _where?"_ Faye demanded in near hysterics.

"I need to take the bullet out, Faye," he said in a brusquely patient tone.

"_It's still in there!?"_

"Hohoho! Camera, camera, camera!" Ed giggled, already leaving.

"Ed! Don't you even think it, you evil little-" she growled after her and a moment later pure agony swept down her arm and across her chest as Jet began to dig into the wound. She automatically reached out blindly for something to clutch, her hand coming down on skin and she looked over through narrowed eyes to see that she had grasped Spike's hand. She stared for a moment, stunned into silence as he returned the look blankly, his cigarette dangling from his lips.

And then, with an inward sigh, he turned his hand to grasp hers, his grip comforting.

"Just watch the nails. They hurt."

* * *

She rose into a sitting position gingerly, wincing. There were no lights on except for a few that were normally left on during the nighttime hours and all around, the Bebop was silent, almost deadly so. She grimaced, rolling her sore shoulder and she felt the stitches pull as she strained for a moment, felt how constricted the bandages were.

They had left her on the couch. She must have lost consciousness, either from the pain or the mere amount of alcohol she had consumed, she didn't know which. A mild headache though pointed to the latter. And all she really knew was that her shoulder throbbed. She lifted a hand to it cautiously, examining her blood-splattered clothes. Figured. No one had thought to change her out of her clothes. And she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Dragging heavy feet, she stood up and felt dizziness wash over her. She stumbled a bit, a hand automatically grasping for the couch to steady herself and she lifted her head, feeling perspiration begin to break out on her forehead. Everything was so hot, as if she had suddenly stepped into a sauna, and she almost lowered herself back onto the couch, her breathing raspy. But she shook her head, fighting the urge, and she turned toward the corridor that led to the hangar. It wasn't until she had started in that direction that she saw the snitch sitting against the railing, still handcuffed, sleeping restlessly. She carefully walked by him and rose up the steps, hearing her steps quiet on the metal and, using the wall, she floated down toward the hangar. Then, a bit into the corridor, she took a turn, bringing herself to Jet's door.

His door was wide open and he crouched inside the tiny cubicle, working at his bonsai absentmindedly.

"Jet."

He glanced up quickly. "Hey. What're you doing up?" he asked her and he poked at his bonsai some more.

"Couldn't sleep," she replied. "You know, gunshot wound and all. Itchy." And she leaned against his doorway wearily, a sweatdrop trailing down the side of her face. "Why is it so hot in here?"

"It's not," he said shortly. "You have a fever." And he tossed her a look. "You should be resting. Everyone on this damned ship thinks they're invincible."

"I'm restless, actually," she retorted. "That and I was lying in my own dried blood and you know how I love that."

"Hmph," was his reply and he eyed her bandaged arm. "We were lucky you wear what you do. I was worried I'd have to cut up your clothes and seeing as how that's the only thing you seem to own-"

"Where do I go, Jet?" she asked him in the faintest voice, so faint he had to look at her in confusion.

"What's that?"

She hesitated, her expression reluctant. "Where do I go?" she asked again. "I know it's my problem and I know I have to handle it alone but where do I go? How do I outrun a guy who can find me anywhere?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Faye?" he demanded gruffly, staring at her.

Slowly, with a pained grimace, she slid down the doorway until she sat on her rear, clutching her arm. A small sound came from down the corridor, back the way she had come and it was probably the snitch shifting. Why was he still on the ship anyway? "This guy knew everything about me, Jet. Even things you don't. Things I've never told anyone. And he wants me for something."

Jet waited for her to go on.

She turned her head back to face him and lifted a hand to her temple, her fingers sliding across sweat. "I don't want to go with him. I don't want to know what he wants me for. It's always bad when someone wants me for something."

"Usually because you owe them money."

"I don't owe this guy anything. I don't even know the guy." And she hesitated in saying it, her eyes shifting downward. "I'm scared."

Jet didn't say anything for a moment and she didn't want to lift her head to look at his face.

"At least you feel something," he said quietly. And as she snapped her head up to look at him she found him smiling faintly. "You finally admit to feeling something instead of carrying on as if you weren't afraid of anything." He turned back to his bonsai but didn't clip at it, didn't make a move toward it. "In your place I'd be just as scared. There's nothing wrong with being scared."

"Everything's wrong with being scared," she cut him off. "I shouldn't be afraid of some guy I don't know. I shouldn't be afraid to leave this damn ship, to go waste some of your money. I shouldn't be scared of one man." She shook her head. "And one man shouldn't have so much power."

Jet agreed silently. "Well, there's something fishy about the guy anyway," he said to her. "On his ISSP file, there's nothing about him really in detail. You should look over his file, see what pops out at you. But the reason he seems to have so much power is because he was formerly employed by the Syndicate."

Faye stared at him. "The Syndicate?"

"Yup."

With a sigh she lifted both her hands up to her face, grimacing as she pulled at the gunshot wound. "Those guys follow me around everywhere. And I'm not even the one who worked for them!"

"Actually, he seems to have a personal interest in you," Jet replied and he lowered his hand, his eyes averted as well. "Tell me about the cold sleep, Faye."

Faye paused, stiffening, and she stared at him in disbelief, as if she hadn't heard him correctly. "What?"

He looked at her, his tone gruff. "Tell me about the cryo-sleep."

Faye stared at him for a moment longer, her jaw clenched. And then, quietly, "Spike told you…" and her tone was clipped, harsh.

"He mentioned it while you were passed out drunk."

"The _pain_ knocked me out," she snapped, not willing to give in. "He had no right. It's not his story to tell. It wasn't even his story to hear."

"You were telling the story to the dog, Faye."

"Because at least he would hear out the whole thing, even if it did put him to sleep," she said with an ugly pout. And her voice grew quiet once more, her head bowing. "He wasn't supposed to hear it. Had I known he was in the bathroom at the time I wouldn't have said anything."

"Why not?" Jet asked impatiently. "That's your problem! You're turning into him more and more-"

"Because he never wanted to know!" she cried aloud and she realized how loud that shout had been only when she heard it echo down the corridor of the Bebop. She lifted a hand to her temple once more, wiping sweat. "He didn't want to know. No one on this ship ever wants to know anything! No one on this ship cares for anyone else, not enough to want to hear anything."

Jet stared at her in confusion.

Composing herself a fraction she said slowly and steadily, "Jet, I can walk down these damn hallways and no one will ask anything. No one asks anything at all. We all accept the fact that we're here but why are we here? Why are we all still here? We're not a fucking family! We're not a fucking…_anything!_ We're perfect strangers living in one space." And she paused. "Or we were. And then Ed left. And it was the three of us and we were still strangers. We would look at each other and we wouldn't see anyone we liked. We just saw each other and resigned ourselves to the fact that we all shared the same space."

Jet remained silent.

"And then he left and it was just you and me, Jet, and we never asked either. We just…lived here and we went about our merry way. But that isn't the way it's supposed to be. It isn't the way it should have ever been." She stared at him for a long moment, wanting him to understand. To understand…something. To understand how wrong it was that they could all live together but not care for each other.

He stared at her right back, holding his gaze even as she averted her eyes. And in a soft voice he said, "You had a happy childhood, didn't you?"

Faye closed her eyes, bringing her knees in and resting an elbow on them, her hand pushing her hair away from her sweaty forehead. "You saw the tape, Jet. You know what my childhood was like."

"No," he said to her. "I want to hear it from your mouth. I want you to tell me what kind of childhood you had. What kind of life you had before it was all ruined."

Faye looked at him from under her hand, thoughtful. And, shaking her head, her eyes sliding closed once more, she said, "I remember…sunlight. Always. I remember friends, family. Old boyfriends. I remember school, junior high, high school. Going to college. And I remember wanting it to last always." She sighed inwardly, hesitating. "I remember my life."

Jet shifted a bit so that he faced her even though he looked at his bonsai blindly.

"I woke up almost four years ago, from a cryogenic sleep," she whispered quietly and he looked at her then. Her face was strained, flushed and there was a thin sheen of perspiration across her cheeks and forehead. "I was on a ship when the gate disaster happened, when the moon…broke. And I woke up four years ago. To this. To this…age. What was I supposed to do, Jet? I didn't know anything about any advances the worlds had made. I didn't know the Earth had basically been destroyed. I didn't know anything and the one person who was supposed to help me _conned_ me instead and left me with medical bills for the next few lifetimes. What was I supposed to do?"

Jet frowned at her faintly.

"I spent three years just wandering. Surviving on my own. I stole the Redtail and I started to travel the stars. And I had to know how to be tough because-" and she broke off, sighing.

"Because it's the only way to be when you live what you did," Jet answered for her.

"Because it's the only way to be," she echoed him with a knowing nod. And she smiled gently, staring at the floor with heavy eyes. "I'm running out of tough, Jet."

Jet nodded as if he understood and maybe he did. Roughly but gently, he said, "We all run out sometimes. Then we refuel and go on."

"You make me sound like the Bebop."

The man smiled, looking at his bonsai once more. "Don't knock my ship, Faye. I can kick you out into space anytime I want to."

Faye's smile turned catty. "Then who would get you your bounties? Spike?"

"He did it before."

Faye looked at him, seriousness clouding her face once more. "Yeah, he did," she murmured. And she slowly lowered her hands to the floor, leaning forward and straining to lift herself to her feet.

He watched her as she did so, as she inhaled wearily. "I'm not kicking you off the ship, Faye. If that's what you're waiting for…it's not happening." He shrugged at her. "You pull your weight, you get the bounties. You…have a right to be here now."

"I'm part of the Little Boys' Club?" she threw at him snippily.

And Jet looked at her knowingly, as if she had just proven a point to him. "Maybe it's not that we don't ask, Faye. Maybe it's that you never tell."

She stared at him for a moment with a frown but he was already waving her out.

"Go to bed. Get some sleep. We'll look at that gunshot in the morning."

And wordlessly, but mildly confused, she turned and left the room, tapping the console and closing the door behind herself.

_That was weird…_

Wearily, she paused in the hallway, moving to go toward her room. And taking a step, she realized she didn't want to. She knew she would toss and turn in bed, sweat clear through her clothes, through the bed sheets. She wanted something cold, something cold to rest her head against, to think against. And she wanted to listen to some music, some jazz, some blues. Something that would remind her of her life before it had been shot to shit. Thoughtfully, she turned to go further down the hallway, knowing where she wanted to go. The darkest room in the Bebop. The small recreational room off to the side, the one where Spike usually worked out in. He spent more time there than in his own room. Half the time she had thought it was his room. She paused at the entrance because there was no door to this room and she looked into the darkness, seeing the stars through the thick windows toward the back left-hand side. They hovered in space, as if waiting.

_Waiting for him to come for me._

With a sigh she gingerly crossed the room, gazing out the windows and she plopped down on the thick, cold windowsill, staring out blindly. The ship was so quiet. She loved this part of the night, when everyone was asleep. Well, almost everyone, but to the point that it was silent and she was alone with her thoughts. It reminded her of all those times before Ed and Spike had left. And then it was faintly reminiscent of times when Ed had come back with Ein, how it had still been quiet but hadn't really been right. And now that they were all back together again it felt right and yet not.

_Because it's exactly the same way it used to be. After everything, nothing has changed and it's not supposed to be that way. Too much happened for it to all go back to the way it used to be_.

She lifted a hand and traced her fingertips against the glass, making small characters, doodling.

_Belonging is the very best thing there is…_

"Shouldn't you be asleep somewhere, waking up with a hangover?"

She jumped and whirled a bit, looking into the darkness and across the room Spike sat on a bench lazily, practically draped horizontally. She stared as he stood up and he was perspiring as well, clothed in only his loose, drawstring pants.

"I thought I was alone," she said to him and her lips twisted. "Besides, I wasn't drunk. I was merely resting."

"Was this before or after you started mumbling all your deep, dirty secrets in your drunken stupor?"

Faye glared at him cautiously.

He leaned over and picked up a shirt, pulling it on, and as he came into a bit of starlight she read across his chest, _'I'm with Stupid.'_

"Gee, thanks." She motioned to the caption.

"I didn't say it. You just agreed to it."

She shook her head wearily, not wanting to spar with him. "I'm never going to win with you, am I?" she asked quietly, looking back out the windows and resting her gaze on a far off star.

He smiled lazily and plopped down on the windowsill before her, facing the dark room as she faced out into space. "Why would you really want to? You'd never get anything out of it."

_No, no I wouldn't. Not when it comes to you._

They sat in silence for a long time and she found herself gazing at him out of the corner of her eye, at how he slouched, how long he seemed and how painfully thin. It wasn't the most comfortable of silences but it was better than when they fought. Wasn't it?

_I want you to tell me about it all. Because I'll listen. Even though you don't listen to me when I speak, I'll listen to whatever you need to say, whatever you want to get off your chest. I'll listen to it all. Just say something…_

"It's quiet," she whispered.

Spike shifted a bit as if he had forgotten she was even there. "Probably because everyone should be asleep," he stressed as if she really was stupid.

"It's a good quiet."

"There's a bad quiet?"

She nodded silently, staring out into the darkness. And faintly, she said, "You told Jet about my cryogenic sleep."

He slowed, pausing. "Yup."

She blinked and looked at him. "Why?"

"Because he should know." He shrugged as if he didn't care.

"It wasn't his business. It wasn't your business. If I had had a choice you wouldn't have known either," she said quietly.

He shrugged once more as if to say, _'Suit yourself.'_

And she chuckled to herself as if his gesture merely proved it all to her. "There's your problem right there, Spike," she murmured.

He looked at her, an eyebrow arching. "What?"

"That's the problem with you," she said it again louder, for him to hear even though he had heard her perfectly well the first time. "You don't give a shit."

He snorted softly, already shaking his head as if he sensed the fight coming a mile away. "It's not a problem. It's a choice. I _choose_ not to give a shit. I choose what I say and when to say it. Hell, you can learn a thing or two from me, Faye."

"Like how to be a bitch?"

"No," he said and he motioned to her, "we can learn that from _you."_ He rose to his feet. "It's too late for this. Or too early. Whatever." And he took two steps toward the door.

"What are you afraid of, Spike?" she asked his back and he slowed to a stop, facing the doorway. "What are you really afraid of?"

He turned a bit, lifting his eyes to the ceiling. "I'm not afraid of anything, Faye. I've gotten past the whole fear issue."

"And you're lying," she threw in, causing his shoulders to slump wearily. "It's what you do best but the bottom line is you're lying-"

_"I'm_ lying?" he demanded of her, turning to face her fully. _"I'm_ lying? Because I don't want to tell you about where I was for those few months after I died? Because I don't want to tell you about my relationship with Julia? What fucking business is it of yours, Faye?"

Faye stared at him smugly, her smile mocking. "Touchy, aren't we?"

He returned her stare, his anger evident.

She looked back out the window slowly, resting the side of her face against the glass. Cool glass. Was space cold? "Do you know…what I thought when I first understood who she was? When she asked me to relay the message to you?"

He remained quiet, shrugging in defeat.

"I thought to myself,_ 'Wow, this is her. This is the woman Spike loves. And it's no wonder.'_ That's what I thought. Just by looking at her, with her blond hair and perfect face. I just looked at her and I knew why you loved her, what that special something was about her. Because she was beautiful. She was so beautiful…"

Spike looked at her blankly, his eyes heavy as she spoke and she knew he listened to her, he watched her, because she spoke of Julia. Because he would never pay her so much attention if she spoke of anything else.

"And she was like you," Faye whispered, gazing blindly into the dark space. "Almost cold. Icy to the touch. Quiet, firm. And beautiful."

Silence arose between them as Faye's voice drifted off, as she trailed away into a sad hush. She brushed her fingers against the glass, her eyes pained and she wrote the woman's name out, over and over. Julia. Julia. Julia. The same name over and over again, as if doing so would bring her back, bring her into being.

And Spike quietly took a step toward her, looming over her, and he reached out, stopping her hand in mid-scrawl.

"She's gone," he said faintly, and it almost seemed as if he was saying it to convince himself as well as her. He paused, clutching her hand for a moment longer before drawing back and he shook his head at an unasked question, his eyes dropping away.

"She's gone," Faye agreed, gazing at him. "So what will it take for you to give a shit?"

He clenched his jaw, his eyes snapping back to meet hers. "About her? Or about you?" he asked her coldly. "What are you more mad at, Faye? The fact that I don't give a shit? Or that I don't give a shit about _you?"_

She stared him dead in the eye, not willing to back down, not willing to back away. "Oh, Spike, this is more than me. Your words don't hurt me anymore. I've learned to take shit and keep going and I thank you for that. Because you haven't changed. Because you'll never _change-"_

"Sorry to let you down," he snapped and he rose to his full height once more, turning to leave.

"So why did you come back?" she called after him. "If you survived, wherever the hell you went off to, why did you come back? You had a life again. You had another chance! Why did you make your sorry way back here?"

He ignored her, already reaching the door.

"Should I even think that maybe it had to do with the fact that you actually _cared?"_ she cried at his back, wanting him to keep fighting, wanting him to stay. "That maybe Spike Spiegel actually _cared _about the people on this ship, actually _cared _about someone else other than himself and other than his dead Julia?"

He whirled, his face suddenly furious. "Watch yourself, Faye. Thin, thin ice."

"I'm not afraid of the ice," she threw at him and she rose to her feet to confront him because she had a feeling this was going to turn into an ugly fight. "I've slept in it for much too long to be afraid of it. I have a reason to be an ice queen. What's your excuse?"

_"My excuse,"_ he shouted at her, suddenly breaking, "is that I have spent the last few months floating in and out of a fucking _dream!_ And everywhere I look all I see is her! She _haunts_ me, she haunts everything I _am!_ I came back here because I needed to get away from her! Away from that fucking piece of me that I can't ever get _back!"_

Faye stared at him, stunned into silence.

"So stop asking me for a fucking excuse, Faye!" he ordered, his face pale, his eyes flashing, one dark and one light. "Stop asking me to care, to _listen,_ because I don't have the patience for it! I don't have the strength to care about anything or anyone else!" And he whirled to leave once more.

"It's not about strength, Spike!" she cried, bringing him to a sudden stop. "Everyone loses a piece of themselves in someone. That's _life!_ That's the way it is! And it isn't about ever getting back that piece! It's about living with that piece _gone!_ And it's about you coming to terms with the fact that that one piece you don't have doesn't make it lost!"

He shook his head at her, as if ignoring her words. "You don't have a clue about it, Faye. You don't know anything-"

"Because you don't listen!" she shouted and she motioned angrily toward the corridor. "No one on this fucking ship_ listens!_ No one on this fucking ship _cares!_ You all go on with your lives, living in this one confined space and you never ask questions! You don't care! What happened to Jet when you left? Have you ever bothered _asking_ him?! Have you ever given a shit about what we went through after you left? Or Ed! Did you ever question why she left? Why she came back?" she stared at him with wide eyes, pained green eyes, and she drew closer to him, watching him. "Did you ever give it a moment's thought that maybe, just _maybe,_ your actions have consequences? That maybe, somewhere in this stupid universe, someone actually _cares _about you even though you don't care about anyone else?"

He lifted a long hand to his eyes, rubbing them wearily. "And what one piece did you lose, Faye?" he asked her impatiently. "What one lost piece makes you a damn expert on my life and everyone else's? Who did you lose a piece to?"

She hesitated, stiff, and when she didn't answer he lowered his hand limply, looking at her.

"Do you even have a clue as to what you're preaching?" he demanded. "Do you have _any-"_

"I lost a piece in you," she whispered sadly and he stared at her, a frown marring his forehead. "I lost a piece in you, watching you walk away that day you left. Shooting my entire clip, I felt it as if it had been ripped out of me. You walked off with it and you left me-"

_Broken._

"Just like she left you," Faye concluded almost inaudibly. "Just as painfully, just as silently. And that's what the ship felt, Spike. Even if you don't want to hear it and even if you don't want to listen, that's what you left us all feeling. You're still carrying that part of me. And you wear it like a fucking badge, like a _trophy."_

He didn't say anything to that, his face weary, his frame almost weak.

"And just because you don't feel it," she said to him in a biting tone and she took a step, brushing by him, "doesn't mean it was never there." She stalked to the door, slowing as she reached it. "You're always going to have that part of me, Spike, whether you like it or not. But it's always _only_ going to hurt me because I'll always see that little piece of me lost in you and I'll know that I can never get it back. You're lucky. You don't have to face that lost part of you. I have to face it everyday, every time I see your face."

And she took a step out into the corridor.

"They're coming through, Faye," he said after her quietly.

She paused, cocking her head. And she turned to face him as he came up behind her and then paused beside her. "What?' she asked him, looking at him.

"They're coming through," he said again and he lifted a hand and poked her in the corner of her lips. The poke brought a swift stinging pain and he added as she grimaced, "Your true colors. They're finally coming through." And with a small, enigmatic smile he turned from her, beginning to whistle, and he floated off down the corridor lazily. Cheerfully.

Faye lifted a hand to her lips, wincing as she ran her fingers across her darkened blue and purple bruises and she merely watched him wander off silently. "My true colors…"


	14. Two Sides of One Coin

**Two Sides of One Coin:**

"Tell me you got something," Spike said through a cigarette, and he leaned over Ed as the hacker pulled up screen after screen of high level security files, from the ISSP's mainframe to encrypted Syndicate files.

"Not yet," Ed sighed, her fingers flying across Tomato's keyboard expertly. She stared into her goggles intently, bypassing one screen and then another, moving faster than Spike would have thought possible, and after staring for another long minute Spike rose back to his full height and exhaled wearily.

"He hides himself behind everyone and everything," the snitch said from his spot handcuffed to the railing. "It's a waste of time to look for him online, you ain't gonna find-"

"Jack Spade," Ed piped up and the snitch broke off halfway. The hacker glanced at Spike as the bounty hunter leaned back down, his interest sparked. "Oooh, Black Jack person's real name is Jack McCullough."

Spike stared at the picture and the file that was flashing onscreen, quickly skimming the same stats that Jack's other file, his ISSP file, had held. "This isn't anything new, Ed-" he began in exasperation and suddenly his own face was called up, his stats spilling out on the screen. He stared, a frown furrowing his face as he read. Spike Spiegel, date of birth June 26, 2044. Currently twenty-seven years of age. Place of birth, Mars. Spike read his file as the stats loaded the screen, his lips parting, the cigarette dropping from his mouth unnoticed.

And flashing diagonally across his stats as the finished loading was the one word in big red letters. He stared at the word silently, dumbly.

Deceased.

"Spike-person is dead," Ed said as if he couldn't read. And she switched back to Jack's file, skimming it.

And that was that then. Spike straightened once more, struck dumb. That was that. The Syndicate, whatever was left of it, thought he was dead and gone. And it was fine with him. At long last, it was all fine.

"What are we looking at?" Faye entered the common room, tossing the snitch a look as the man glared at her. She paused beside Spike, examining his bandaged wound and then, looking down at Ed's screen she came to a complete stop at seeing Jack's face on the screen. She stared for a moment, Spike glancing at her, and she leaned forward, reading over Ed's shoulder. "Jack McCullough?" she asked faintly, a frown crossing her forehead.

"It's a Syndicate file," Spike said to her and he reached into his pocket, pulling out another cigarette to replace the one he had dropped.

"Syndicate?" Faye breathed.

Ed scrolled down several screens, skimming the text in interest. "The rest of the files are password-protected," the hacker said, her amber eyes widening and she immediately attacked the keyboard, punching in keys and scrolling through screens that continued to pop up.

Faye waited almost anxiously as the hacker shot down screen after screen, always returning to the same password protected window. "Come on, Ed, how long is this going to take?" she demanded impatiently.

The hacker ignored her, intent on breaking in. Faye straightened once more, her arms crossing over her chest and she glanced at Spike as he looked at her. And wordlessly they both turned and floated to wait, Spike claiming the couch and Faye plopped down on the chair.

* * *

_If I tell you I'm strong, will you play along?_

_If I tell you I'm strong, will you play along?_

_If I tell you I'm strong, will you play along?_

_Or will you see I'm as insecure as everybody else?_

* * *

Faye snapped awake, blinking at the ceiling from where she had sprawled on the couch. Spike paced quietly and he seemed to be on his millionth cigarette. They had been waiting for hours almost, shifting from seat to seat, first pacing then sleeping then waking up to wait once more. And still Ed worked at Tomato, staring intently at the screen and attacking the password-protected site with her trusty smiley faces. Faye glanced toward the hacker with a sigh before stretching on the couch once more.

Spike stopped beside the couch. "Up," he ordered.

"I'm comfortable," Faye said to him, her eyes closed, her arms crossing behind her head.

"You've hogged the couch for about an hour, my turn."

"Get your own," she mumbled.

Spike made a move to snap at her when, from in front of Tomato, Edward jumped happily. "Edward is in!" she cried.

Faye snapped to her feet as if the hacker had just offered her a money card, nearly ramming into Spike. Together they both dove toward the hacker, peeking into Tomato's screen over her shoulders from either side.

"Ok, Black Jack. Also known as The Surgeon. The Surgeon? That's…weird in a very scary way. Jack Mitchell McCullough, former residence Raleigh, Mississippi…" and she slowed as she read it, a frown marring her smooth forehead. "Mississippi…born-" Her eyes widened in disbelief. "It's not possible-"

"February 16, 1990," Spike whistled. "No wonder the file was password-protected."

"He should be older than me!"

"He is," Spike murmured, scanning the stats. "Just not the way you were expecting." He pointed to the screen. "Look at this. Attended Boston University, majoring in Cryogenic Experimentation-"

"It was a new major, the newest step for human evolution, in the early years of the Millennium," Jet said and he entered the common room, lighting a cigarette. "Bigger than human cloning back then."

"I'm hungry!" Faye snapped at him. "Why aren't you in the kitchen cooking?!"

In the middle of lighting the cigarette he threw her a glare and he came closer, leaning over Ed's head to peer into the screen. "So, this our guy?"

"Jet, meet Black Jack also known as Jack McCullough," Spike said graciously and he straightened to stand beside the bigger man.

"Good-looking guy in this picture," Jet mumbled gruffly, staring at him. And he glanced at Spike thoughtfully, "looks kinda familiar…" than at Faye, "So this the guy you dated?"

Faye pointed immediately at Spike. "You are so dead."

Spike smiled impishly, looking back at the stats. "Not saying a word," he said in a sing-song tone and he motioned once more to the screen. "There's no date of death. And he's not deceased; we'd have something on the screen saying so. But he enrolled in Boston University in 2008, majoring in Cryogenic Experimentation and there's no year then for a degree completion. Actually," Spike squinted thoughtfully, "he drops below radar for years. He has nothing on him until 2053." He pointed to a date onscreen. "2053, degree in Cryogenics and Restorative Practices." He frowned at the dates.

Jet inhaled deeply, his powerful arms crossed over his chest, his cigarette sparking as he took the drag. "What do you think?" he asked Faye.

"Looks like you had a buddy sleeping with you," Spike said to her.

Faye swallowed, staring at Black Jack's face. "I don't…think I did," she murmured and she leaned close once more, her gaze trained on the man's face. "He's familiar, too. But I don't know from where…"

Ed scrolled down the stats cheerfully, petting Ein as the data dog rested on her lap. "Black Jack-person worked with Quicksilver Cryo until 2067. And then he won casinos."

"Won?" Spike asked. "I didn't know you could win casinos." He looked at Jet. "Is that like a lotto I don't know about?"

"Won," Ed confirmed and she pointed. "Casinos signed over in his name in 2067."

"So, it wasn't that he was traveling southwards," Faye murmured thoughtfully, looking toward Spike but seeing through him as he glanced at her. "He was touring his own casinos. And he told me that day, the day we brought him in, he was doing some work in the casinos. He had been running late-"

"I know how he won them," Spike said in a low tone, a frown slowly creasing his forehead as he suddenly snapped his head to look back at the screen to stare at Black Jack's face. "I remember…it was when things started going bad in the Syndicate. Someone started killing off casino owners. For a little while people stopped gambling-"

"I remember that!" Jet snapped his fingers. "And then the casinos were under new management and people started coming back."

"Right," Spike said with a nod. "They never said who started killing off the owners. We all assumed it was-" and he cut off thoughtfully.

Faye stared at him for a long moment, Ed looking at them all quizzically. "Vicious?" she asked softly.

Spike didn't bother answering, looking toward the screen once more. "A year later the shit hit the fan anyway," he shrugged and he wound his way around the group to plop back down on the couch.

"So he won the casinos?" Faye asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jet leaned over Ed's shoulder as Spike shrugged once more. "It was more of a raffle, I think," he said with a squint to his eyes as he tried to remember. "A lot of money was put in and casinos were raffled off together. Looks like he won a chunk of them." He glanced at her. "Your Mr. Wrong is probably one of the richest guys on Mars."

Faye deflated. "And here I am with you losers."

"That same year he was brought up on charges of embezzlement and insurance fraud," Jet read from Tomato's screen. "And the following year, conspiracy to commit murder."

Spike went to shrug yet again and then paused as Jet stiffened and suddenly whirled on him. "Wait, conspiracy?" he echoed, frowning even more so and staring at Jet.

"In your murder," Faye whispered in disbelief, staring at the screen. "The charge came from inside the Syndicate."

"But he didn't-" Spike went on, startled. And he rose once more, this time coming in between Jet and Faye to stare at Tomato's screen. "Vicious-"

"Was probably in on it, too," Faye murmured. And she looked at him. "Did you look up your own file on this?"

Spike nodded mutely and nudged Ed. The hacker obediently pulled up Spike's file once more and flashing across the screen was the word once more. Deceased. Spike opened his mouth to speak, glancing toward Faye and she was staring at the word blindly, merely gazing at it.

"You have two dates," she said quietly.

He looked as she reluctantly pointed back to the screen and, sure enough, there were two dates listed for his demise. One in 2068, the first time he had "died". And then in 2071, the second time after the battle with Vicious. He settled into silence, merely reading his stats.

"So, he's charged, under the Syndicate, for your murder, for conspiracy to commit murder. And then the Syndicate hands the charge over to the ISSP, to be made into a bounty. He's brought in, serves…" Faye squinted as Ed jumped back to Jack's file, "less than a month before breaking out, and he vanishes again. Resurfaces as Black Jack last year, takes over his casinos once more, and is brought in by me." Faye frowned. "But it doesn't explain why he wants me."

"Your charming personality?" Spike asked innocently.

"Because you're friends with the wrong people," Jet sighed.

Spike hunched over Ed once more and the hacker glanced at him questioningly. "With Mao out of the way and the Elders also taken care of there was no one to stop him from taking his casinos back from whatever was left of the Syndicate." He paused, blinking. "Ed, see if you can find the new headquarters."

The three of them looked at him in confusion.

"Someone's taken over the Syndicate," he replied to their questioning stares. "Someone's been updating these files," he explained as if they should have understood.

Faye nodded at him, glancing back at Tomato. "True. Wow, Spike, not just a pretty face, huh?"

The bounty hunter arched a brow at her. "Only figuring that out now?" he asked her and he lifted his hand hands to entwine his fingers behind his head of wild hair. "You're getting slow in your old age, romani." But while his tone was mischievous his face was anything but. He stared at the screen, hands behind his head, his jaw clenched tightly.

Jet leaned over once more. "Ok, Ed. Let's see what you find on the guy who is updating the files and who is heading the Syndicate now. Try to find a location, too-"

"Isn't it obvious who keeps updating the files?" came a voice from behind them and the snitch glared at them. "Who do you think hired me?!"

"You said Black Jack-" Faye began but Spike suddenly whirled and strode over, taking hold of the man by the collar and yanking him up as far as he could but still be held down by the cuffs.

"Ok, now you're pissing me off," he growled into the man's face and he slammed him against the railing, causing Faye to make a small sound of surprise, Jet reaching a hand out.

"Hey, Spike-"

Wordlessly and showing no sign that he had heard Jet, Spike pulled his Jericho and shoved it into the man's mouth roughly. "Talk."

Faye quickly moved forward, Jet coming up beside the bounty hunter. "Yo, Spike-"

"He can't talk if you have your gun shoved in his mouth," Faye snapped at him. And in just as firm a tone but in a softer voice, "back up."

"I'm getting sick and tired of being played with and I sure as hell ain't going to be chased the rest of my fucking life," Spike said through gritting teeth. "So you better tell us everything you know or I will rip out everyone of your teeth and then make you eat my gun."

Faye looked from Spike to the snitch warningly, Jet lifting his hands at his sides and backing away.

The man made a muffled sound of agreement and Spike pulled his gun free, rising back to his full height. "I told you he hired me," the snitch said, sweat rolling down his temple. "I only meant that it's probably the hacker who is updating the files. It's all I meant.." He seemed apologetic enough but Faye knew that with a gun pointed at you, one never really knew. "He's trying to resurrect the Syndicate. He's started already. All those people he hired for her," he motioned to Faye with his chin.

"Go on," Spike said casually.

"So, nothing else, really," the snitch said uncomfortably. "Look, you're inside their database, you got Black Jack's files. Those aren't as up to date as what he had now. The hacker had started updating those files but then they were copied and moved to another system and he uses that one now. You're not going to get into that system and you're not going to find anything over the last few months on this system. Black Jack showed up once the coast was clear and he started recruiting from there. It's a whole new Syndicate from what you were raised on."

"What I was raised on?" he echoed quietly.

The snitch squirmed uncomfortably. "Yeah…" he mumbled. "I kinda knew who you were after awhile. People still talk about you, the few Syndicate guys who were there in your time-"

"You make me sound like a fucking grandfather!" Spike shouted at him indignantly.

"Not much fun, is it?" Faye purred with a gleeful little smile.

"You _are_ old, Faye," he reminded her with a quick glare. And he exhaled wearily. "But still, he does have the resources for starting up an entirely new Syndicate. He's rich, he's expanding, and he seems to have been pretty close with Vicious." He paused, lifting a hand to his forehead. "I don't like it."

Ed turned in her seat in top of the table. "Look what Ed found!" she called to them.

Faye floated back, Jet giving Spike a warning look. Glancing over Ed's shoulder she suddenly pointed. "She found him!" she exclaimed in surprise.

Spike quickly rejoined her, Jet frowning as he crowded in.

"The Hacker," Faye read from the file. "Also known as BlueFrag."

There was a picture of an Asian boy there in his mid-teens, grinning widely for the camera that had taken his image. And the thing that struck them most as they stared at his picture were his blue eyes.

"He's just a kid," Faye said. "He's fifteen years old and his real name is Matsuda Kazuo. Looks like Ed has some competition." She nudged the hacker teasingly. And a moment later, staring intently at the girl, she suddenly asked, "Ed, are you blushing?"

Ed looked up quickly to see all three of them lean in to observe her with wide eyes. Letting loose a bloodcurdling "Eeeeeh!" she jumped up and ran from the room, her hands clamped down over her burning cheeks.

The three of them watched her run off, Faye blinking innocently. "You all saw that, right? It wasn't a trick of my imagination?"

Jet's face was already hanging. "Great. Now who's going to keep looking this up?"

"I'll do it," Spike offered with a cheerfully happy smile.

"Back away, Destructo-Boy," Faye said warningly, shoving him back a step even as he raised a leg to sling it over the table. "I'll do it."

Plopping down on the table in front of Tomato, she leaned in. "Ok, so we now know that their hacker is a genius kid. There's Mr. Surgeon, AKA Black Jack, the brains of this little operation. Let's see what else we find-"

"The RepairMan," the snitch said from behind them and Faye glanced backward with a small frown. "The RepairMan. That's what they call him. There's Black Jack. The Hacker. And the RepairMan."

Faye looked back toward the database. "Ok, so…how do I perform a search?"

"Search Database." Spike pointed to a corner of the screen,

Inching closer, Faye typed in the RepairMan. And sure enough a file opened up in a new screen. It was a picture of a man in his early fifties, gruff-looking. There was a cigar clamped between his lips, his face bored, and his name was in capital letters along the top of the file. "Scat Robinson," Faye read with a twist of her lips.

"This is very familiar," Jet said then and Spike found himself nodding in agreement.

"Geez, it's us," Faye said with a frown. "The Hacker is Ed. The RepairMan is Jet. And Black Jack is Spike." She blinked as if it were too strange to imagine.

"So, they're missing the babe?" Jet said, glancing at Spike.

"The babe?" Faye questioned with an arch to her brow.

"He wasn't talking about you, dear," Spike said with a reassuring pat to her wounded shoulder.

"Was there anything about a woman?" Jet asked, turning to the snitch quickly.

The snitch nodded solemnly. "Her." And he motioned to Faye with cuffed hands as the three of them looked at him.

Faye recoiled, worry crossing her face. "So, what the hell? He's trying to bite off our group?" she demanded, glaring at him. "Why can't he get some other chick? I can't be the only bitch on Mars!"

"We wonder about that, actually…"

"But he's familiar to you, you said, right?" Jet asked her, bringing her attention to him. "So maybe you knew each other? A guy you swindled? Someone from your past?"

"We're not going to get these questions answered like this," Spike said mutely. "There's too much that has to be asked to this guy's face." And he leaned forward toward Faye, looking at Tomato over her shoulder. "So let's do that, shall we?"

Faye blinked at him from a few inches away.

"See if you can find any moving charges, people hired to transport things from the former Syndicate headquarters. And also, see if any place has had any weapons or arsenals delivered over the last few months-"

"I'm not Ed!" she cried and she rose. "If I leave this site I'm not going to be able to get back inside without a password!"

"So go get her! You're the one who scared her off!"

"I'll get her," Jet cut in and he wandered off in the direction Ed had taken, shaking his head wearily.

Faye turned back to the computer, sitting back down. "I didn't know we were such a cool group," she said with an impressed curl to her lips.

"Of course we're cool," Spike said in an offhand tone. "We're just…always broke."

"Doesn't that take away from our coolness factor?" she asked him with a look. "Every woman's first rule. Always go after the guy with the money." And she looked him up and down. "Which might explain why you're still single, Spike."

"What are you going to do?" the snitch asked fearfully from behind them.

"Concerning you?" Spike glanced at him. "Well, I've decided not to kill you but…"

"I mean about the Syndicate," the snitch said and he frowned and Faye suddenly glared at him, her face darkening.

"How about you tell us where you report to?" she suggested and there was an evil gleam in her eyes. The snitch was almost positive he had even seen her twitch what with the way she was studying him. "That way you can save us all the trouble."

"I don't report to anything," he replied, tugging at his handcuffs in a bit of a panic. "I meet the guy in an alley and from there we're all assigned a job. We get it done, I get paid, I go home. Then I wait for my phone call and-"

"You think he knows we have him?" Faye asked Spike, glancing at him quickly. "Maybe he thinks we killed him and dumped his body."

Spike was nodding mischievously. "They might find it strange if he shows up on radar again."

"If I…what?"

"It's a plan," Faye said with a surprised twist to her lips. "Have him show up, meet up to do another job. We can tail whoever is heading the whole job."

"Straight back to headquarters."

"Do we really have to find out where he operates from?" she questioned uncomfortably then, her expression shifting.

"Yeah, we do. Come on, we can take down the Syndicate and get a bounty on the side. Black Jack's bounty skyrocketed to twenty million woolongs."

"Twenty million?" she gasped.

"Twenty million," Spike nodded with a knowing grin, throwing a leg across the expanse of the table and straddling it to sit behind her.

Faye turned in her seat a bit more to face him. "That's a hefty bounty," she murmured, eyes shifting sideways thoughtfully. "But the last time you went to take care of business with the Syndicate, you died." She shook her head. "I'm not dying for this."

Spike stared at her for a moment, silently. She lifted her eyes back to him and she slowly frowned at him, uncertain as to what the stare meant. "What?"

"You gave up for a second," he said to her, gauging her reaction to his words.

"I didn't give up," she said to him darkly. "I just…think we should really think about this, what our next move is-"

"No," he shook his head at her, trying to make her understand. "You gave up for a second. You were willing to die. You gave up."

She stared at him for a moment, stunned into silence. "What? When? No, I didn't." And at his face as he raised his eyes back to hers, "I did? When Jet was stitching me up? The ride back to the Bebop on the Swordfish II? When!?"

He paused, observing her intently. "When the guy held the gun to your head in the alley. I saw your face. You wanted it. You wanted it all to be over."

Her eyes slowly settled into a frown. "No, I didn't."

His expression shifted into one of indifference and he shrugged wordlessly, moving to rise once more.

"I didn't," she stressed, taking hold of his arm and stopping him midway through lifting his leg back over to the other side. "You're confusing me with yourself. I actually have a problem with dying-"

"Now who's the liar, Faye?" he asked her quietly and he leaned toward her, into her. His eyes held hers firmly, and she saw by the look in those eyes, he was relishing the fact that he could start the argument with her. He tilted his head slowly, his tone soft. "You had a taste of it, romani. Your gypsy ways were coming to an end, you had it in your hand. All you had to do was close your eyes and bite that bullet."

She gazed at him silently. Because she knew the moment he spoke of. That one tiny eternity, the cold barrel placed to her forehead in the alleyway. And he was right. She had wanted it almost desperately. She had wanted it to take her away from the chase, the misery. The agony of seeing his face and knowing he didn't care.

She had wanted an end in that moment.

"What are we even doing this for?" he asked her quietly, staring into her blank gaze. "What are we searching for? If you want it so badly, I'll do it for you. All it takes is one clean bullet. Just one." And he waited for her, waited for her outburst, her anger.

She stared at him for a long time and he glanced down with a small frown as he realized that her hand trembled, her grip tight on his wrist. "Would you do it for me?" she asked him softly. And for a moment he thought he saw tears in her eyes but the next instant they were gone and it was just her green eyes gazing at him. His lips parted questioningly and she had not removed her grip from his wrist. "If I asked you to, would you do it? It's like you said. One clean bullet. Would you do it for me?"

Spike took a long moment in answering, merely staring at her. And then his expression slowly closed over, his lips meeting into a sullen line. "No," he replied with a shake of his head. "For one, you have to pull the trigger yourself to be ready for it. You walk into it, eyes wide open. If you can do that, you're ready."

Faye stared at him, her jaw clenching at his words. "And two?" she bit out coldly, her tone faint.

Spike smiled at her darkly, mirthlessly, and the smile did not reach his eyes. His smiles never reached his eyes. "Two is my reason alone," he murmured, his different colored eyes narrowed intently. "But you've only really been running for about a week, Faye. Give it a few years then try to reason with me about the thoughtless motives I have to kill myself." And he wrenched his arm free, finally rising away from her.

She bowed her head as he strode over toward the snitch and then passed him. "You should have lived your life, Spike," she whispered faintly and her words slowed him a bit. "You should have stayed gone."

He came to a stop, hands shoved into his pockets and as she lifted her gaze to his she found his eyes hooded and weary.

"I know," he said then and his face settled into a blank mask.

"Why didn't you?" she asked him and he had had that same look on his face the day she had confronted him with her gun, the day she had tried to stop him from leaving. He had come out of the corridor and she had lifted her gun to his head and he had merely turned his head to look at her, his face expressionless yet somber.

He shrugged as if he really hadn't wanted to answer the question, didn't care for the answer. "Because sometimes you just get tired of it all. You get tired of starting over and you get tired of staying the same."

Faye shook her head at him, grimacing. "What do you do when you feel like that?" she asked him.

He smirked, looking ahead once more and squinting down the hallway. "You die." And as she went to ask him more, noises came from the hallway, piercing shrieks and Jet's gruff voice.

"We were only foolin' with ya, Ed! C'mon, we need you to-" and he let out a roar of pain. "Ow! You bit me!"

Faye looked over blindly, Spike bowing his head and backing up once more to allow Jet to sweep in angrily, clutching Ed by the back of the shirt and dragging the hacker.

"Ed doesn't want to look anymore!"

"We're not giving you a choice, Ed!" Jet growled and he firmly sat her on the table, Ein barking and wagging his tail as if it were all a game. Straightening once more he exhaled wearily and crossed his arms over his wide chest, his eyes closing. "She can run when she wants to!" he said to Faye as if he couldn't have believed it.

Faye glanced toward Spike. "We can all run when we want to," she said quietly. And she rose from the table, dragging Ed forward by the ankles even as the hacker fought her.

Jet glanced toward Spike as well. "Did I miss something?"

Faye plopped down on the couch tiredly, crossing her long legs. "It doesn't matter. Let's finish this, once and for all."

Jet stared at Spike for a long moment, wordless, and then he faced forward once more, patting Ed on the shoulder. "All right, Ed. We're done with the games. We'll be serious now." And he spoke toward Spike without actually looking at him. "What are we having her look up?"

Spike turned back to face them, his eyes coming to rest on Faye and she shifted her gaze toward him, wordless. He arched an eyebrow at her silently and as she merely stared at him he came forward once more, hovering over Jet and Ed. "We're looking to see if anything has been moved from the Syndicate's former headquarters anywhere. We're looking for a place, a date, and if that comes up we're looking to see if any weapons have been put on order. Use this system, they have to have some kind of receipts or order placements."

Ed reluctantly turned back to the screen, typing once more. On the couch Faye closed her eyes and dropped her head back onto the couch, merely sighing. "So what are we going to do if we actually stumble across this place? Are we just going to storm in and-"

"You'll get caught in a second," the snitch said from behind them. "You won't get in and you won't be able to get to the guy."

"You have such faith in us," Spike said to him.

The snitch chuckled at that one. "It's one thing you learn on the job," he said almost sadly. "You don't have faith in nobody and nobody ever has faith in you."

Spike nodded to that.

The screen flickered and Ed motioned. "Big building on Mars," she chirped.

The group of them stared at the images of the skyscraper in silence. And then, looking over his shoulder, Spike slowly turned the screen for the snitch to see where he sat against the railing. "Familiar?" he asked the snitch.

And the snitch took one look at it before settling wearily. "Damn it."

Faye's eyes widened. "You knew what it looked like? Where it is?" she demanded. "I thought you'd never seen-"

"I don't think you should be going," the snitch said to them. "No, really. It's armed to the teeth, and if you're thinking of using your hacker to help you get in, it's not going to work. You need to be in the building to hack into its systems. I'm telling you, you guys ain't going to make it."

"You knew this whole time?" Jet asked him with a frown.

Spike looked at the screen once more, thoughtfully. "We can do it," he said with a shrug. And he smiled. "We just take Ed along."

* * *


	15. Half Truths and Cannon Fodder

_**Half-Truths and Cannon Fodder:**_

_"Huh?!"_

_"Take __**Ed**__ along?!"_

_"Ed doesn't want to goooooo!"_

Spike stuck a finger into his ear to relieve the ringing. And he encountered three different faces and yet the three of them had the exact same expression on their faces. Complete and utter disbelief. "What did I say?" he asked innocently.

"Are you for real?" Jet asked him, an eyebrow arched over wide eyes.

"I'm serious," Spike nodded. "If I was able to do it before I'm sure I can get into a complex again. It just depends how we do it. We can go in the bang 'em up, shoot 'em down way, or we can try to sneak in."

Faye was already rubbing her eyes. "Why don't I like these options?" she questioned the ceiling.

Spike straightened. "Or we can just sit here and wait for them to come for you. But if we're going to do that I'd rather you not be on the ship. I've already been shot twice because of you, I don't need-"

"Are you kicking me off the ship?" Faye demanded and she suddenly rose to her feet, glaring him dead in his eye.

"Not in so many words…" Spike said with a thoughtful shifting of his eyes to the side.

Faye stared at him, her mouth open to insult him.

"Ok, boys and girls, let's calm down…"Jet said, sticking his arms in between them both and bringing them to a cease fire. "And let's actually consider this-"

"I'm not leaving this ship," Faye muttered to Spike coldly. "And you have no say in whether I go or not. You gave that right up-"

"I don't need a right," he said to her just as icily. "All I need is my gun."

Faye came closer still, thrusting Jet's arm aside. "I _really_ hope that was a threat. I don't like to shoot people who haven't insulted me-"

"All right already!" Jet shouted and he shoved Spike back a few steps, grabbing hold of Faye by the yellow collar of her vinyl outfit. "You," he said to Spike," calm down. And you," he glanced at Faye, "shut up."

Faye staggered a bit as he shoved her backward as well and she quickly composed herself, fixing her collar. Spike merely glared darkly before turning away and plopping down on the seat beside the table. His legs came up, his boots clunking loudly on the table and he slouched comfortably, digging into his pocket for his box of cigarettes.

"It's like pulling hair with you two," Jet grumbled gruffly and he turned back towards Ed. "Ok this is the place. Where _is_ this place?"

Edward motioned to the address silently.

"I have no idea where that is," Jet said, scratching his bald head helplessly.

"I do," Spike said as he popped a cigarette into his mouth, striking a match and covering the flame as he lifted it to light his cigarette. "But does it matter that I know?"

Faye managed to suppress the growl she had simmering inside.

Jet sighed and sat down on the table in between the two of them. "Ok, so let's say we decide to go in quietly. What do you want Ed there for?"

"Ed," Spike said as he took a drag, "is our hacker. If we can get inside with her she can probably control that building the way she can control the Bebop. The system for the Bebop is online, controlled by satellites and all that other colorful crap that I don't get. The system for that-" and he motioned to the image of the headquarters on Tomato's screen, "runs on its own, a separate entity from online systems. Ed's not going to be able to open up any doors or shut down any alarms from say, _here_, for example. But if she can hook up her laptop somewhere inside that building she stands a better chance of taking down their system, especially since she can't get in from here."

Faye shook her head, had been shaking her head since the moment he had started talking. He looked at her with impatience as he finished.

"If you have something to say, Faye, just fucking say it," he said to her.

Faye looked at him at the harsh tone he had with her. "Yeah? Ok, fine. We shouldn't do this."

Throwing his arms in the air he slouched even further in his seat.

Faye quickly looked at Jet as if to look for him to back her up. "We shouldn't even be taking her along," she said to him. "She shouldn't be there. She'll get in the _way-"_

"She's the only one who can get us _in_ the way," Spike snapped at her and Ed sat silently, glancing from Spike to Faye as they glared at each other across the table. "We need to have her connect directly to their system. And besides, the bounty will-"

_"Screw the bounty!"_ Faye shouted at him furiously, rising from her seat to look down at him crossly. "It won't be worth it if she won't be around to find us any _more_ of them! Or are you too big an _ass_ to understand that?"

He snickered, shaking his head at her, and he rose as well, taking another drag. "You know what? Screw you, Faye," he said bitterly and he flicked the cigarette at her, turning away as she recoiled from the flying butt.

"You _asshole!_" she shouted and she brought her foot down on the cigarette butt, stomping it out. "I don't need you to screw me, Spike! You do it _every fucking day!"_

"We're doing this to get you out of your own fucking _problems!"_ he threw right back at her, whirling back around to face her. "That guy isn't after me! He isn't after Jet and he isn't after Ed! He isn't even after the fucking _dog!_ He's after you and from the beginning all you've been is trouble! From the _beginning!_"

_"I'm_ trouble!?" she shrieked at him. "_I_ am? _You're_ the one who joined the stupid Syndicate to begin with! _You're_ the one who had the falling out with them! _You're_ the one who brought the whole _problem_ of the Syndicate aboard the ship! We were _fine_ until you decided to show your face again!"

"Ok, now," Jet said in a firm but toned-down voice. "Let's just-"

"You were _fine?"_ Spike demanded, taking a step in Faye's direction. _"You_ were fine? If I remember correctly, _Faye,_ you were the one who was practically passed out drunk when I first got back! You were the one who couldn't even look at my _face_ when I got back! And _you_ were the one who wanted it all to end! You were the one who only a second ago _begged_ me to-"

_"Don't!"_ she cried and the color drained from her face, her lips parting. "Don't finish that sentence."

"Why not?" he asked her and he strode the last few steps to stand before her, to loom over her. She met his eyes, holding her gaze and her eyes narrowed as he leaned into her. "Don't you want the group to know? Don't you want them to _listen?"_

Faye swallowed, feeling a lump form in her throat. And she felt the cold fury rise inside. Fury at the fact that he would use her own words against her to prove his point. Fury that he would use that fragile moment against her. Clenching her teeth, she whispered bitterly, "You deserve to crawl in the dirt like the rest of the snakes in the Syndicate." And she lifted her hands to his chest, shoving him backward with all her might. He staggered and she stormed past him, stomping her way to her room.

Spike straightened, glaring off after her and as she vanished he became aware of the silence in the room. He glanced at Jet and even as the older man was opening his mouth to speak he growled, "Don't even start," and he also strode out, making his way toward the hangar instead.

* * *

_Behold the way our fine feathered friend_

_His virtue doth parade._

_Thou knowest not my dim witted friend_

_The picture thou hast made._

_Thy vacant brow and thy tousled hair_

_Conceal thy good intent._

_Thou noble upright, truthful, sincere_

_And slightly dopey gent._

_You're my funny Valentine_

_Sweet comic Valentine_

_You make me smile with my heart_

_Your looks are laughable_

_Unphotographable_

_Yet you're my favorite work of art_

_Is your figure less than Greek_

_Is your mouth a little weak_

_When you open it to speak_

_Are you smart?_

_But don't change a hair for me_

_Not if you care for me_

_Stay little Valentine stay_

_Each day is Valentine's Day._

* * *

The hangar door came open with a loud clang. Faye looked up slowly, her head hanging heavily. She rested atop her Redtail, smoking quietly, and music was trailing slowly from her ship, softly. She loved this song because it had to do with her and not so much her name as the way she would want someone to see her. Even through all the seeming insults in the song's verses, there was that underlying sweetness in knowing that it was all sung with a tender smile. And even in the end all the song asked was for that Valentine to always stay the same, always the same.

She wanted someone to sing that song to her.

As the hangar doors opened they let in a wild breeze and a spray of water. Jet had landed the Bebop on Ganymede for a small respite and even at that hour in the night he has gone to shore. She wondered if it had anything to do with Alisa but she knew that relationship had ended, even if Jet never spoke of it. But sometimes it was a good thing to revisit the past and so she had seen nothing wrong in his going. She turned her head along the Redtail's surface, watching as the Swordfish II slowly docked.

Silently, Spike climbed out of the ship, his figure a silhouette in the darkness, and he paused, lifting his head as he heard the music drifting in the darkness of the hangar. She turned her head once more, facing the ceiling, and she took a deep drag of her cigarette. Her ears picked up the quiet sounds of the bounty hunter hopping down, the seal of his ship closing with a small hiss. And there came the sounds of shuffling, of footsteps. They slowed as he reached the Redtail and she had no doubt that he had noticed her in the darkness.

Without saying a word he suddenly climbed up the side of the Redtail and she jumped as he appeared beside her. He plucked the cigarette from her fingers, bringing her up with a sharp "Hey!" and he easily stepped over her, moving to the other leg of the Redtail and plopping down as if he owned the ship.

Faye stared at him with a sullen frown, propped up on her hands. "That was my last cigarette," she growled at him.

He silently took a drag, his long legs dangling over the side of the ship, facing the wall. She glared at him for another moment in silence, her face darkening, and then she merely lay back down, facing the ceiling once more.

"The least you could've done was ask-"

"I'm not going to apologize for saying what I did," he cut her off abruptly, his voice low and serious. "If that's what you're waiting for, I suggest you waste your time on better things-"

"I know you're not going to apologize," she said, effectively cutting him off in return. "You never apologize, Spike, so why start now?"

"I'm _not_ starting now."

"That's the point," she sighed and she clasped her hands behind her head, propping herself up a bit comfortably. "I know you're not going to apologize _ever_ for saying the things you say. But it doesn't make you right."

He didn't reply to that for a long moment, smoking her cigarette and she merely stared at him. She had wanted that damn cigarette. Her mouth practically watered as he took drag after long drag and then he finished it and put it out on the Redtail's surface. She felt her eyes twitch but bit her tongue. It was time she gave the Redtail a good wash anyway.

"What the hell are you listening to?" he asked as he threw a look toward her mono pod, which stood open.

"My song," she answered with a haughty look, her eyes closing, her arms crossed behind her head.

Spike's expression became a bit dubious. "Is it your song because it has your name in it?" he asked and his long legs dangled off the side of the Redtail, almost boyishly.

She shook her head. "No. I liked this song before it all went wrong. And then I was given my name and it's still my favorite song." She smiled behind closed eyelids. "It's all about coincidences, Spike."

Spike took a moment to answer, turning to face outward into the giant hangar. He had left the hangar door open and the smell of seawater drifted in. Always Ganymede. "I don't believe in coincidences. One, sure. Two, hardly. Three means it's time to get the hell out." And he paused. "Where's the Hammerhead?"

"Jet took it to shore. Said he wanted to go visit someone, didn't say who and I didn't ask," she replied.

He nodded to himself, still dangling his legs, his arms propping him up comfortably. And then he glanced toward her, his expression blank. She kept her eyes closed, her arms behind her head and she seemed to be asleep almost, except that her own legs swayed a bit to the song.

"So, are you in?" he asked her.

"In what?" she asked and her green eyes came open to frown at him.

"The plan," he replied as if she should have known and why was she asking such a stupid question.

She blinked at him. "Plan? What-" and realization dawned on her, her expression withering. "Oh, that plan. Nah, I'm out. You can go if you want, though."

"I wasn't asking for your permission," he snapped at her and as she watched he tossed himself off the Redtail's leg, landing softly. She sat up a bit as he shoved his hands into his pockets and strode over to the doorway.

"What are you going to do?" she called after him quickly, sitting up fully.

He didn't even look back over his shoulder. "I'm going to sleep."

She frowned. "That's not what I meant," she said to him. "Are you really going to do this? Take Ed along? She's just a kid, Spike. Just because you were recruited when you were a kid doesn't mean you should-"

"Faye, are you going to lecture me all night?" he asked her with a sigh, but he smiled faintly up at her, turning to face her a bit, his hands comfortably in the pockets of his dark pants.

"Do you really want to hear my voice?" she asked him almost in defeat. And she looked down, her arms grasping the edges of the Redtail's leg. "Look, you know it's crazy to go into the place. You did it once and I didn't hear from you for months. I didn't know whether you were alive or not but you shouldn't drag Ed into it, too. Find another way to get in-"

"There is no other way," he cut her off. "Why are you so against her going when you do whatever the hell you want? She has her own mind, let her make it up on this."

Faye hesitated, her eyes averted. And he waited for her patiently, his expression bordering on boredom. She didn't want to say what she was about to say, didn't want to give away anything else he could use against her in future arguments. "I just…wouldn't want her to go through the same upbringing I went through. And I'm not talking about the past. I'm talking about the three years since I woke up. You want to bring her into the little game of Bounty Hunting but some people aren't cut out for it-"

"She's not you, Faye," he said to her. "She's already been through a lot more than you. Now it's just about this job."

Faye pursed her lips, already feeling how bad an idea this was going to be. And she sighed, glancing toward the hangar door. It was dark outside, a quiet night with the sounds of water splashing up against the side of the former fishing trawler. "You'll have to have a foolproof plan," she murmured thoughtfully. "Not those kamikaze ideas you get in your head."

"You know I don't know the meaning of the word foolproof," he said with an impish smile.

She glared at him.

And his smile became all the more mischievous. "Does this mean you're in? I could use the extra hand."

With a deadpan expression Faye lifted her hands and clapped.

He arched a brow at her. "I'll tell Jet when he gets in. Twenty million woolongs, here we come." And he tapped the console on the door, allowing the door to swish open.

"Spike," she called after him, and he came to a stop, glancing over his shoulder. She hesitated for a moment and then said, "Thanks. For helping me with this."

He stared at her for a moment in confusion. And then, with a look of understanding, "Oh. No, I'm not doing this for you." And beginning to whistle, he floated out, both his hands back in his pockets.

Faye stared after him and then the door swished closed. With a furiously fed up growl she plopped back down on her Redtail, accidentally banging her head on the surface.

"Ow. Damn it."

* * *

"Ok, hit me with it," Jet said, smoking a cigarette, and he plopped down on the couch beside Spike. Spike peeked an eye open around his own cigarette, his legs resting on the table. Before him, Faye sat on the table itself, one leg bent under her frame. And at her back, Ed was tapping at Tomato, chuckling evilly here and there. It made them wonder what she did half the time. Ein panted beside her, Faye grimacing as she turned to look at the dog.

"So, Jet…" she said in a musical tone, turning back around to glance at the larger bounty hunter. And a maniacally sweet smile appeared on her face. "How's Alisa?"

Jet hacked up a lung halfway through a drag. "What was that you said?"

"Alisa. Dark-haired chick. Owned a bar. Got you into watches. How's she doing?"

Jet composed himself, although he seemed to have paled somewhere between choking on smoke and listening to Faye innocently torment him. "I don't know how Alisa's doing. I haven't seen Alisa in about a year." And as Faye lifted a finger to comment, "Mind your ass, Faye."

Faye settled into a, _"Ha, told you so,"_ smile, directing it toward Spike, who silently, but with a roll of his eyes, dug into his pocket and tossed her his pack of cigarettes. The female bounty hunter tore into it with a giggly laugh and she paused as she pulled out a cigarette, a frown marring her forehead.

"I didn't promise you matches," Spike drawled and he took a nice, long, sweet drag of his cigarette, obviously relishing it.

"Ed, any floor plans for the place?" Jet asked the hacker, quickly looking to avoid World War III on the Bebop.

Ed nodded and pulled up the files.

"Those aren't updated," the snitch said from behind them. "That was before the renovations were done. Those are the original floor plans before Black Jack moved in."

Spike frowned at Tomato's screen. "How soon after Black Jack moved in were the renovations done?" he asked.

"Just about the very day," the snitch said. "He moved in and I heard he decided everything had to be changed. That and the fact that the Hacker has been given _liberties_ with the building." The snitch shook his head. "I don't think it's even the same building on the inside."

Jet rubbed his bald head. "That makes it a bit more difficult then, doesn't it?" he asked, taking another drag.

Spike nodded wordlessly. And he suddenly smiled maliciously, "But not for us."

Faye and Jet blinked at him in confusion.

Looking over toward the snitch, Spike called out, "Looks like you'll be doing one last job after all." And they turned to look at the snitch.

The color drained from the man's face. "What are you talking about?" he demanded and he shrank back a bit as they all merely stared at him although it was obvious only Spike really knew what the last job was.

"You're going to send him back in?" Jet asked after a moment.

Spike nodded. "He's going to be our eyes and ears," he said and he reached into his pocket to pull out a small pair of shaded glasses, his cigarette hanging limply from his lips.

The snitch stared at him, his lips parting. And then, suddenly shouting, he began to struggle against the handcuffs. "No way, man! No _way!"_

"Totally way," Spike nodded once more and he turned to Ed. "You can receive signals from this, right?"

Ed nodded in silent agreement, glancing at the glasses.

"Good," Spike placed the glasses down on the table. "Now we need a digital hook up to this. I need you to be able to receive images from these," he informed the hacker.

"Aye, aye, captain!"

"You're not really going to send me in there, are you?" the snitch asked fearfully. He pulled once more on the handcuffs. "C'mon, man, I've been helping you _out-"_

"After you tried to kill us," Spike reminded him. "Look, you can have an amazing recovery, show back up at headquarters. We just need you to walk the halls and scope the area for us. I want to see the floors, the offices. I want to see just how much firepower they're packing and how big a bang they can produce." And he turned to his team. "Am I asking too much?"

"Eh," Faye waved her hand a bit to show that maybe he was.

"Let him work for it, then," he shrugged. "The point is to do this and not get yourself killed. It's that easy."

"Easy for you!" the snitch cried. "I helped you out so I wouldn't _have_ to go back! I'm not going ba-"

Spike rose with a sigh, already digging for his gun. "You're either killed by them or killed by us," he said to the snitch, brushing by Jet and Faye. He strode over to the snitch and glared down. "You said you've heard of me, you knew who I was. Who am I?"

The snitch stared at him, Faye and Jet also looking on in interest.

"You're Spike Spiegel," the snitch mumbled, bowing his head. "Former Syndicate Operative for the Red Dragons."

Spike nodded, and he lifted his hand to his cigarette, taking a deep drag, expelling the smoke and tapping out the ash before shoving the cigarette back between his lips. "Good. And what do I do to people who piss me off? Other than killing them, of course?"

The snitch swallowed inaudibly, looking for all he was worth like a slave before his master. "I heard you used to torture people…"

Faye's wide green eyes stared at the back of Spike's wild head of hair.

"Right again," Spike said in a low tone and he crouched before the snitch, staring him into his eyes with his own hooded dark eyes. "So there is no option for you, really. Either you do this and _possibly_ get away with your life or I kill you here and now. I have no problem with that. I'll just mop your blood off the floors when I'm done."

Faye's eyes widened all the more, her lips parting. Before her, Jet leaned forward a bit. "Spike-"

"You have ten seconds to decide before I send the hacker for my stuff," Spike growled darkly into the snitch's face. "Then it's just you and me."

Faye waited with bated breath, Jet rubbing a hand over his bald head once more.

"Ok," the snitch whispered, and then in a stronger, angrier tone, "ok! I hear you! I got you. Just…tell me what to do."

"Good," Spike nodded and he clapped a hand on the man's shoulder cheerfully, causing the snitch to flinch unwillingly. He rose back up and turned to face the crew. "Let's get him set up."

Faye blinked at him. "Set up-" she asked and as he turned to walk away she rose to follow, Jet bringing up the rear. "Wait, hold on, Spike!"

He paused and turned halfway down the corridor, his eyes questioning, his cigarette dangling seemingly forgotten.

"What happened to the plan?" she demanded. "Where _is_ the plan?"

_"That_ was the plan," he said as they reached him in the middle of the corridor, just out of earshot. He motioned back the way they had come, to the snitch as he looked at them, fearfully. "Didn't you hear it?"

Faye glanced at Jet and the man shrugged in confusion as well, nursing his own cigarette. "Are you really sending him back in there?" she asked him. "You know better than I do his chances of surviving if he goes back in-"

"Actually, I don't," he corrected her. "I was part of a different Syndicate. I knew my rules. I don't know theirs."

Faye threw him a withering look. "Spike-"

Spike stared at her with an uncaring expression. "He's not my problem, Faye," he said to her quietly. And he glanced at Jet before turning back around and heading for his room.

"Is _anything_ your problem?" she demanded, calling after him. And she saw him pause, his shoulders falling wearily already. "This isn't the fucking Syndicate, Spike. This is a guy's life, someone who actually helped us out a bit." And she took a step to take hold of him by the arm, turning him around to face her. "You're sending a guy in to be murdered-"

"So what?" he bit out, glaring at her. "He had no problem coming in to kill _us._ I'm not about to feel _bad_ about the guy-"

"Did you really torture people?" she asked him suddenly, and he came to a stop in confusion.

"What?"

She stared at him, her green eyes flying from one dark iris to a light one. "Did you really torture people in the Syndicate?" she repeated and behind her Jet leaned against the wall, arms crossing over his chest.

Spike glanced toward the bigger man before looking Faye in the eyes once more. And he lowered his voice for her, his cigarette flaring as he took a quick drag. "Truthfully? No. I didn't make it a habit," he said to her, clenching his jaw, and she felt the expelled smoke crawl around her face as he spoke. "I just did my job the way I was supposed to. But the occasional guy came along who was itching to have his teeth broken and I took care of it. _Vicious_," he hissed the name, "is the one who usually took part in those extracurricular activities."

_"Vicious,"_ she snarled in the same tone, "was _delusional. _You're not Vicious. And I really don't like this setup."

"We're not supposed to like it," he replied to that. "We're just supposed to get out with our lives. Are you backing me up or what?"

"Why are _you_ so adamant about going?" she asked him. "The guy's after me, not you! What's your whole reason for doing this?" And she cut him off before he even thought of answering. "And _spare_ me the whole '_we're friends'_ spiel."

"Wasn't even thinking it," he said. He glanced behind her toward the snitch and the man was looking down the corridor at them. "I'm going because I want the Syndicate out of my life once and for all. I didn't come back here to continue being hounded by them. And I sure as hell have no clue why this Black Jack is resurrecting the Syndicate but I'm not about to let it happen." He pointed dead at the snitch and the man recoiled slightly. "He's our ticket in."

Faye turned to look at the man, Jet sighing quietly, smoking silently.

"I'll do it by myself if I have to," Spike said with a shrug. "But if I'm doing it myself I don't need Ed." And he turned back around.

Faye glared at his back. "Wait a minute," she hissed, and then louder, "wait a minute, Spike!"

He paused, glancing at her with an arched brow.

She looked at Jet and the bigger man merely shrugged. "I have no idea and I have no opinion," he said wearily.

Spike smiled faintly.

Faye growled deep in his throat. "If you go in alone," she said, turning back to the leaner bounty hunter, "it's going to be with guns blazing, isn't it?"

"How well you know me."

Faye snorted in an unladylike fashion. "Fine. I'm in. But we need a fucking _plan_, Spike. Not just throw the guy to the sharks and see what happens. If they eat him up we'll still be on Square One."

Spike lifted his hands and met them behind his head. "The first part of the plan depends on him anyway. We just need to equip him with the shades and make sure we receive a signal from them. I just want to take a quick look around. You know none of us can get in on our own. So we need to find another way in, some kind of access. And once we're inside we need to be able to have Ed hack into their system and turn it in our favor. Nothing to it."

Jet was nodding and Faye looked at him.

"Don't agree. It's a stupid plan," she snapped.

"Faye, do you have a better one?" Spike asked her wearily as if already expecting a negative answer. Impatiently, he finished his cigarette and tossed it to the floor, stomping it.

Jet instantly motioned, growling raspily. "Aww…I just mopped the fucking floor, Spike!"

Faye stared at Spike, her lips quirking. "No," she sighed after a moment. And her shoulders slumped, a grimace crossing her face as her wound pulled. "Are we going in just as cannon fodder?" she asked.

Spike smiled again. "We're all cannon fodder, Faye, stop hogging the prestige. But _Jet_ I want on the Bebop. I think we need to start equipping this baby with some kind of firearms."

Jet's mouth dropped open as he looked toward Spike. "Firearms? Do you know how much that's going to cost? We barely have _food_ on this ship, we can't afford firearms!"

Spike's smile turned mischievous. "C'mon, Jet. I have _some_ kind of connections-"

"With a gang of mobsters, sure," Jet huffed.

"No," Spike said, waving his hands, his eyes closing cheerfully. "With ol' Doohan. He'll probably get the ship outfitted with a few missile cannons, some machine guns. And we'll pay him when we get the bounty on Black Jack. It'll be a snap."

_"If,"_ Faye stressed, her hands lifting to settle on her hips in irritation. "For all we know we're not even going to get out of this alive-"

"But that's a chance we're taking, right?" Spike shrugged. "We'll go visit Doohan, see what he says and in the meantime we'll send this guy in," he motioned to the snitch. "Get both things done in the least amount of time and then we go for the headquarters. C'mon, I _like_ my plan."

Faye winced inwardly, glancing back toward the snitch. "Well, I guess we can try it," she said in defeat, lifting a hand to scratch at her head thoughtfully. "How does the plan end?"

Spike glanced at Jet. "Jet stays on the Bebop after we get the ship some weaponry. Faye and I go to keep tabs on the guy, make sure he actually goes in and doesn't run for cover. We take Ed. We see how far he gets inside the headquarters before he gets stopped or killed. Once we have the info we need it'll be our turn. We wait until Doohan finishes outfitting the ship with the weapons. Then _we_ go in. If we're lucky we make it to the man himself. Take him down and fly our asses out of there with him." He shrugged with a semi-serious smile as they both glared at him. "Hey, I never said it was a _good_ idea…"

"It's a flat out _bad_ idea…" Jet mumbled and as if he didn't care although by the look on his face it pained him to no end, he also tossed his cigarette and stomped it out.

"But it's stupid enough that it just might work," Spike sang in a prodding tone. "Jet, I need you on the ship in case we get our asses followed by some monoships or racers. Faye can't pilot the Bebop the way you can but she's fine with the Redtail. And I only need somebody watching my back in case they open fire onus inside the actual facility." He glanced at Faye. "We can handle it, though, right?"

Faye looked like she needed convincing, still scratching her head.

"It'll be a snap," he said.

"That _snap_ wouldn't be the sound of your _neck_ snapping, would it?" Jet grumbled with a shake of his head. And he rose off the wall, standing straight. "We need to get rid of their hacker, too. If we hand in Black Jack he'll be out in a few days what with the way the hacker works for him. We need to get both Black Jack _and_ the Hacker out of the way."

"Which is why Ed is coming," Spike nodded. He glanced back toward the main room. "When Ed was with me in the vents she was able to pinpoint all the heat signatures of all the people aboard the Bebop. I have faith that she can find the hacker in the mess of people that are going to be in that building."

"Faith?" Jet was questioning with an expression that easily read, _'Is that right now?'_

"But with heat signatures?" Faye asked him.

"Most likely," Spike said slowly and deliberately, throwing a glare at Jet, "they carry that type of security system as well but if not then I'm sure she'll find another way around it. She actually _does_ have a head on her shoulders."

"Her very scrawny shoulders," Faye murmured under her breath. And she sighed tiredly. "Ok, then. Let's stop by Earth and see what your guy says. I also want to make a pit stop while we're there." And without elaborating further she turned to go back toward the main room. And she suddenly paused, turning back around.

"But…we _are_ leaving the _dog,_ aren't we?"

* * *


	16. Past Mistakes

**Past Mistakes:**

"You want me to what?" Doohan demanded, his lean frame taut in disbelief.

Spike smiled at the man, peering over the side of the Bebop. "I'll pay you when I get the money," he called in a reassuring tone, Jet beside him looking very uncomfortable.

"Boy, you better get your ass down here and ask me to my face where I can _hit_ you if I have to," the older man snarled up at him, arms crossing over his chest. Behind him, his assistant, Miles, was jumping up and down cheerfully, already looking ready to start setting off some fireworks.

Faye snorted under her breath, her eyes closed. The sun beat down on her bared frame, clothed only in a skimpy bathing suit and she adjusted her shades. She had angrily demanded that Jet take off some of the wrappings binding her wound. A woman had to tan and there could be nothing to take away from the flawless color she so desperately wanted. And so she lay in the middle of the Bebop's deck, sunning herself as the boys argued. She had no place in that argument. In fact, the only place she had at that moment was exactly where she was. For her station in life she would let the men do all the work while she reaped all the rewards.

She loved her life sometimes.

"All right, all right, I'm coming down," Spike sighed and there came the shuffle of movement and when she looked over he was hopping over the side of the Bebop, vanishing. Jet moved a bit to follow his progress down the side of the ship and beside her sat Ed. Writing on her thighs. _Again._

"Ed!" she shouted furiously and she stared at the small doodles the hacker had left on her. Damn crayons. But she suddenly realized the girl wasn't holding crayons so much as markers. _"Ed!"_

Ed chuckled evilly.

"It's a new look," Jet called back to them, smiling, before turning back around.

"Yeah, that's great," Faye mumbled. And she took hold of Ed by her white shirt, dragging the girl closer. "Do it again and I _feed_ you to Ein," she hissed into her face, glaring into her amber eyes. She motioned to Jet with an angry gesture. "You see that?" she asked, gesturing to Jet's butt, which was pointing toward her at the moment. "There's a surface for you to draw on. Get the hell out of here."

"Ooooh…" Ed scampered toward Jet.

With a growl, Faye rose and examined herself. It so figured. She got to her feet, angrily folding up her beach chair and she stormed into the hangar, heading toward the bathroom. Now she'd have to spend hours washing off the marker colors. She took one look at her legs and set to work, scrubbing furiously and even at the end of her attempts there was the faint shade of color left over. Lucky for her the closer Ed had gotten to her knees the lighter the colors she had used. She sighed, turning off the water and stalked to her room, pulling on short shorts and a sleeveless shirt. At least it covered her bullet wound enough. Pulling on some sneakers she made her way back toward the deck and found Ed carefully drawing on Jet's ass as the older man called down to Spike below.

_"How much?!"_

"Didn't you hear me the _first_ time? He needs to order the parts from Reggie and Reggie charges everyone an arm and a leg _except_ Doohan! It's a sweet deal, Jet!"

Faye went over to the other side of the Bebop and absentmindedly climbed down the side, hopping down onto the parched earth of the desert they seemed to have landed on. Glancing around the Bebop, she caught a glimpse of Spike conversing with the white-haired Doohan and then shouting back up to the deck where Jet still stood, Doohan's assistant hovering beside them and interrupting their talk with several quick, well-placed sentences of his own. She looked around, glancing at the large hangar that seemed to house old Doohan's ships and projects. Practically whistling, she turned and hopped along, floating into the hangar and looking about. With an innocent little hum she observed everything, going further into the hangar. It was cooler out of the burning sun, and she hesitated against a wall, allowing the coolness of the wall to seep into her figure. It wasn't often that Spike allowed them to see a piece of his past. She was going to relish it, any way she-

She paused, staring at a small bulletin board hung up on the wall. Several pictures decorated the board and she passed by one of Doohan himself standing before a newer looking Swordfish II, staring at a picture tucked under several papers that had been tacked up. Spike's face looked up at her in between an old order form and a paper with a communications number, and she slowly reached out and shifted the papers aside. The picture was of Spike, Doohan and Miles, she realized in interest. Spike sat in the back, long legs bent as he leaned on one in absolute boredom with an expression of _'I can't __**believe**__ this happened'_ on his face, a cigarette in his fingers. Doohan hunched on the other side, glancing toward Miles and not looking so much bored as pissed off. And Miles the assistant was the only one smiling, standing before them and directly in the way, gesturing for the camera. Behind them was the wreckage of the Colombia, the ship that had saved Spike that day not so long ago. She stared at it, a small smile lifting the corners of her lips, and she ran her fingers over Spike's bored face, laughing inwardly. The lunkhead should have been happy they had saved his life and instead he was looking as if they had killed his almost favorite puppy.

But then, it had hardly been a life worth saving, hadn't it? The smile drifted away as she paused, her fingertip brushing over his chin in the picture. At that point, from the beginning, he had already questioned his existence, his life. He had already had doubts that he was even a person, more like the shell of one Spike Spiegel. Spike Spiegel hadn't even existed then. He had existed in the man's form, just a piece of life clinging stubbornly and for what? For nothing, especially if he was the same person now as he had been then. He hadn't changed. The _To the Death_ duel between himself and Vicious should have been the end of it, and yet, here he was again, still. Still clinging.

She went to take down the picture, already reaching for the tack and she suddenly stopped, halfway through the task. Who was she to take the picture? Someone here had felt the moment fit to photograph and it was their memory, not hers. She hesitated, fighting with herself. But she didn't have any pictures of him, she _wanted_ this one. She wanted something to remember him by the day he did decide to leave, for good. Because it was still in coming, that day. She was practically counting down until it came.

"Who're you?" came a gruff voice and she quickly recoiled, glancing toward the doors of the hangar. Doohan stood there, framed by sunlight, Spike behind him and looking at her in mild surprise. Miles hopped in behind them and smiled at her cheerfully.

"I was just-" she began and Spike came up to her, his hands shoved into his pockets. He glanced at the picture she was holding free of papers and he leaned into the board as if he were blind, blinking.

"Yeesh, you kept this, Doohan?" he asked the man, observing the picture.

"How did that get up there?" Doohan demanded roughly and Miles waved to take the blame for the little mishap. "It's bad enough I have to see your face here, and now there's a _picture_ of you up there?" The older man shook his head and stormed further into the hangar.

Spike smile was light and he reached out to it. He took the tack off, shoving it elsewhere in the board and called to him, "I'll get you a better one, old man." And he handed the picture to Faye, winding around her to join the man and Miles as the assistant floated off to join them both.

Faye stared after him, clutching the picture and she slowly looked down at it, stunned. She was holding it, the picture. And she hadn't even _taken_ it. She fought the smile, refusing to show that it meant anything to her but she carefully placed it into her back pocket, glancing over her shoulder once more and then stepping out into the sunlight.

* * *

"He says it'll take a few days," Spike explained to Jet, leaning on the side of the Bebop out in the sweltering sun. Waves of heat rose across the tough terrain and they both perspired, Jet wiping his bald head. "But at least he's doing it."

"Yeah, but will it be worth it in the end?" Jet questioned quietly and he lifted his hands to the side of the Bebop's rails, leaning over and looking down below to see the old engineer barking orders at Miles and sending the dark-skinned assistant for parts.

"We might lose some pocket change but we'll still have some left over," Spike replied, squinting up at the sun. "And better to be safe than sorry, I say."

"Is that your new motto?" Jet asked him with a side smile. "I never thought I'd live to see the day that Spike Spiegel would say that."

"Say what?" Faye asked as she came out onto the deck. She lifted a hand to block the sun and joined them by the side of the Bebop, glancing over the edge.

"That you've got gangrene on your legs," Spike pointed and she glanced down to see the faint green and purple marker stains.

"So now what?" Jet asked them both. "We sit here and wait?"

Spike shook his head, drawing back from the edge. "Nope. Now we leave while this is happening and we stop by Mars again. We need to drop off our good friend back at headquarters."

Faye didn't say anything to that, her arms crossed on the side of the ship, her hands embracing herself.

"I'll take him in the Swordfish II. Faye, you got Ed." And he turned to waltz toward the ship.

"No," she said absentmindedly. _"I'll_ take him. You take Ed." And she pulled away from the side.

Spike questioned her with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't trust the guy. If he tries to fly off with my ship we can override him with the remote. _I'll_ take him. You need to be able to see what's going on inside the building anyway, _you_ take Ed."

Spike's face fell sardonically. "Is this because she drew on you?"

"Let's go," Faye said in a sudden huff at the mere mention of the colorful marks on her legs. "I need to make a stop, remember?"

Spike nodded, looking after her as she walked back inside. And he glanced back at Jet as the man looked back over the edge. "Ok, Jet, we'll be-" and he came to a stop, tilting his head.

Jet glanced over his shoulder. "Hmm?" he asked.

Spike came close again and crouched behind the older man, staring at his butt. "Interesting," the leaner bounty hunter mused. And with a sly smile he rose and waved, retreating back into the hangar.

"What?" Jet demanded, looking over his shoulder and down at his ass. "What're you-" and he suddenly saw the marker on the seat of his pants, the picture one of a large smiley face. He let loose a roar of anger, gesturing. "Faye!" he snarled and then in a louder tone that echoed across the dry landscape, _"Ed!"

* * *

_

"I _really_ don't think this is a good idea," the snitch said to her uncomfortably as she shoved him into her mono pod. He grimaced and then winced, Faye squeezing in after him and he still managed to take up most of the space.

"What're you, the fucking green giant?" she demanded. "Crouch down!" And she pushed herself in the rest of the way, elbowing him as she closed the pod door.

"Are you really going to make me do this?" he asked her and she was already sitting in her own seat, kicking him to sit down as well.

"Yeah, we're going to make you do this," she growled at him, and she suddenly paused, glancing toward Spike. He was climbing up the side of the Swordfish II as she waited, Ed hopping along behind him. "Spike!" she shouted, flinging open her pod once more.

He glanced over with a "Hmm?" and Ed cheerfully hopped into the Swordfish II, settling into the seat. He looked at the hacker quickly with an emphatic shake to his head and he took her by the back of the shirt and deposited her in the small space to the side of the seat.

"Catch!"

He whirled back around as Faye flung her bracelet at him and he caught it almost absentmindedly, frowning. Holding it up to the light sweeping in through the hangar doors he understood what it was and looked back at her. "I thought you were going to hang onto this," he called to her.

"Can't use it if I get knocked out," she explained and she closed her pod door once more, finally settling and switching on the Redtail. The mono ship came to life gently, the snitch gently muttering behind her and she switched on her communications, watching as Spike finally climbed into his own seat.

"Are we _really_ sure we want to do this?" the snitch asked one more time.

"No," Faye replied through gritting teeth. "But then again I never get to do what I _want_ to do." And Spike's face suddenly lit up on her communications screen.

"You lead, Faye," he said to her.

With a nod, Faye lifted off, the Redtail shifting before shooting out, and below her Jet merely watched silently from the deck, leaning against the side of the Bebop. He lifted a thumbs up to her as she took to the afternoon sky and, behind her, the Swordfish II raced down the deck before also lifting off and following silently.

* * *

"What are we doing here?" Spike's face came up on her communications screen just as she passed by a large sign by the side of the road.

**Welcome to Raleigh, Mississippi.**

"I just want to stop by my house," she said to him and he followed at her tail as she climbed a bit higher into the sky.

"I get to see where the infamous Faye Valentine lived?" he questioned with a hint of a joking tone in his voice.

"What's left of it," she smiled. "I used to live in Singapore. That was my childhood home. But then my last three years of high school, we moved here. Dad got a new job that forced us to relocate."

Spike remained silent for a moment. "So…what are we doing here, Faye?" he asked again but his tone was curious now.

She hesitated, staring blindly as she flew. "Black Jack lived in Raleigh, Mississippi. Remember?"

"Yeah…" Spike said, prodding for more. And then, suddenly understanding, "Yeah…"

"I don't know how I know the guy and I don't know how he knows me but he lived in the same town I lived in. There has to be something there that will jog my memory," she said and she hovered over a section of the town for a moment, looking around. The Swordfish II came up beside her, Spike waiting for directions, and she slowly turned, trying to remember. The first time she had come to Earth, she had visited her childhood home. That had been in Singapore. But this was going to be a bit more difficult. She had been prepared in visiting Singapore. Raleigh, Mississippi was in shambles and she didn't know east from west when it looked like this.

Moon chunks had left the town in ruins and spotted with craters, even though she still saw people walking the streets, going about their normal lives. She could never live on Earth, not with the every day threat of being crushed by a moon rock. She looked around, grimacing. That building over there looked familiar, if she went that way-

"This might take longer than I thought," she murmured to Spike absentmindedly and he was already sitting back in his seat, hands behind his head comfortably.

"Take your time. I might get some shut eye-"

"It's not going to take me _that_ long!"

"Ed needs to peeeeeee!" came the girl's suddenly suffering voice.

"So do I, actually," the snitch said behind Faye, tapping her shoulder with his handcuffed wrists.

With an impatient snarl that came from deep inside, Faye directed the Redtail toward the familiar building and as she came upon it she suddenly saw another familiar sight, quickly turning and shooting toward that as well. She was remembering little by little. It just would have been a lot easier had there not been so much destruction. Following blindly, she shot off, hearing Spike on her communications as he cursed and quickly followed.

* * *

They settled down on the ruined side of the road a half hour later, the Redtail and the Swordfish II touching down. The snitch instantly got out the second Faye opened her mono pod, shooting off into the trees to relieve himself. Ed followed but at a more leisurely pace, humming to herself.

Faye pulled herself out of the mono pod and glanced around, frowning. That was where the old café had been, she mused, and the Southern Cooking restaurant had been down that road which meant her home-

She whirled around and looked up a small incline. Which meant her old home had been up there.

Spike climbed out of the Swordfish II, removing his gloves and he waited for her as she slowly took a step in the direction of the hill. "Anything?" he asked.

She nodded and motioned for him to follow, peering at the old ruined houses that had bordered the street she had used to get to high school. She studied all of them, remembering that this old woman had lived here, or that this family had lived there. An old boyfriend had lived here, she reflected, pausing by one particularly ruined house. She had loved him and she stared at the house, feeling the memory of it rise inside roughly.

Taking a step, she hovered before the dilapidated mess, seeing an old house that had once shone with the morning sunlight. She stared, her lips parting, and she saw the boy's face as he appeared at the window in a dim memory, waving slowly at her and grinning. He had had blond hair, beautiful blue eyes, and he had taken her to her prom. She gazed into the ruins blindly, feeling too much suddenly. Too much that so many years and so many things had happened but at the same time she had really only last seen the boy about five years before. In her time.

"Charles Parkerson," she murmured and Spike stood beside her, smoking a cigarette already.

"Hmm?"

She motioned to the house. "Charles Parkerson," she said again. The boy who had sat with her on the hood of his car to watch the moon with her. The boy who had loved jazz and blues. The boy who had gotten _her_ into jazz and blues. She blinked as bittersweet memories rose from it, the mere picture of his face in her head. "We all called him Charlie Parker. He was named after him. He loved Charlie Parker's music. It was always playing in his house…"

Spike stood silently, staring at the house with hooded eyes. And he suddenly looked over toward the Redtail. "Get in the ship!" he called and Faye glanced up to see the snitch hovering warily beside the Redtail. Spike took out the bracelet and clicked a button, holding it to Faye's face.

"Charles Parkerson," she murmured, and the ship suddenly came to life once more, the snitch jumping back in surprise.

Spike pressed a button, the seal popping open and with a resigned look the snitch climbed in and settled into Faye's seat, slumping wearily. "Ed," Spike called to the hacker as she came from behind a tree. "Watch him, we'll be back."

"Aye, aye!"

Bowing her head, Faye turned from the house and began to climb the incline, trudging along. To the side and slightly behind her, Spike followed, his hands shoved into his pockets, his cigarette hanging from his lips. "You lived here?" he asked, looking around distastefully.

"Hey, it used to be pretty," she threw at him.

They passed by more houses on the way. A family with twin girls had lived in this house here. And a lone couple had occupied that house. A family of seven had lived there. A family of three with a teenage son had lived over there. A divorced woman and her dog. A male college student. She trudged on, picking up some speed and at the top of the incline, marking the end of the street, stood nothing but glorified ash and ruins.

Faye came to a stop sadly, merely staring, and behind her Spike was silent. She shook her head as she came closer and she had seen this mess before, in Singapore. It was the same kind of tragedy, the same mess of memories and ruin. She could make out the rooms that had once stood there. The living room there now had pieces of her parents' bedroom in it, broken bedposts, the arm of an old couch. Her dresser had pitched over and landed toward the back, broken apart and part of the ground now. Nothing but one huge mess. She even saw the tattered figure of an old stuffed animal under the brittle leg of a chair.

"It's not telling me anything," she murmured as she stepped over what had once been the front porch. She stumbled a bit, regaining her balance, and Spike followed a little less clumsily. And she suddenly laughed, pointing at her old bedposts. "I always wanted a room on the ground floor," she said and she went toward that section, moving carefully.

Spike paused beside a large broken table and he tested it before plopping himself down on it. He glanced around blankly, finishing his cigarette and already reaching for another one.

Faye stared down at the remains of her bedroom, hovering beside an old dresser. She had carved little doodles into the back of it and she carefully turned the dresser to gaze at the doodles once more. She had been such a kid, she realized, as she read _Charlie and Faye Forever._ It was one thing that she had been happy about once she had remembered more of her past. The "doctors" had gotten her first name right. Below the first carving was written _My Funny Valentine_ and she smiled, remembering the day she had sneaked Charlie into her room to carve it into the back of the dresser. He had carved it for her and he had kissed her, a small kiss in commemoration. It had been Valentine's Day. She lifted the large chunk of wood and it snapped in half as she did so, separating the two engravings from each other. She made a small sound of dismay, glancing toward the bounty hunter. "Spike-"

He was beside her, on her other side, peering over her shoulder with a curious expression. She whirled back around in surprise and he said, "Hmm?" poking at the dresser with his foot. And then, "Hmm.." as he poked some more. His hands were in his pockets, his cigarette hanging from his lips and, with one last but understanding, "Hmm," he reached out and pushed aside a chunk of the dresser, pointing to something large and rectangular sticking out of the ground.

Faye frowned and reached out, yanking it from the ground, and it was a large, pink, photo album.

"Pink?" he questioned.

She glared. "I'm allowed to have pink. I _am_ a girl, you know." And her expression withered. "Or haven't you noticed?"

"Oh, I've noticed. You show all the signs. Too long in the shower, skimpy clothes, and the practice of putting every single fruit and vegetable on your face to combat the aging process."

Faye opened the book carefully and stared at the first picture she saw. It was of herself and her parents after they had moved into this house. She had been older than the girl in the video but still as cheerful and vibrant. And her parents. She remembered them only too well then. She smiled faintly, passing a finger over their faces, picking at the tattered edges of the book, and she began to skip through the pages, merely staring silently. All of her and her family, her friends. Even a few of her old boyfriends. One of her on Charlie's back, clutching him by the neck and laughing, several people caught in that special moment in the background. He had been so handsome and so polite. Everyone had been in love with him. And if she really tried, she could hear his voice in her head still.

_"One day you'll find the one, Faye. Who knows, maybe it's me!"_

She stared for a long time at the picture, her smile slowly fading away. One day. Yeah, right. She lowered the book, looking around and suddenly feeling completely and utterly lost. Her past had left her stranded with nowhere to come back to, nowhere to hide to. This wasn't her anymore, and this wasn't _hers._ This was just one large mess of memories and things left undone, unsaid. If she had known back then what was to have happened she would have done things differently, so differently.

"It isn't me, anymore," she whispered, rising slowly, and Spike, who had been hunched over beside her merely watched her with a confused expression.

"Hmm?"

She lowered her hand, holding the book, and she let it fall to the ground. "This isn't me," she said again and she shook her head. "This isn't me anymore." And she turned away then, climbing over the rubble. "It was a mistake to come here."

Spike merely watched her, blinking blankly and after another moment he followed, joining her to make their way back to the ships.

* * *


	17. The Stakeout Gone Wrong

**The Stakeout Gone Wrong:

* * *

**

"I really don't want to do this," the snitch said quietly, looking around at the darkness. The trip to Mars had taken longer than expected and it was now late into the morning. The sun would rise soon and they hadn't wanted to send him in during the day. There would be more people around if anything went wrong.

Faye landed the Redtail silently, the Swordfish II touching down as well, close by on the same roof. She turned the ship off, flung open her door and kicked the snitch out wordlessly.

"C'mon, we can talk about this-" he cried as he staggered and fell to his knees, his hands handcuffed.

With a clenched jaw, Faye pulled out her gun and leveled it at the snitch, climbing out of the Redtail. "Move," she ordered, stepping out and shutting the pod seal.

Spike climbed out of the Swordfish II, Ed stretching and yawning loudly. "Oooh, Mars…" the hacker sighed.

Faye floated over toward the Swordfish II as Spike hopped down from the racer, glancing toward Ed. The snitch followed silently, slowly, and Spike glanced at him. "So, how are we doing this again?" Faye asked.

"We're sending him in," Spike replied simply. And he also pulled out his weapon, shifting the safety off. "You know what you're doing?" he asked the snitch. "Here's a hint. Running is not the right answer."

"I got it, I got it," the man said quietly.

Spike took hold of the handcuffs roughly and unlocked them, putting them away in a back pocket. And then he glanced toward Ed.

The hacker sat at the edge of one of the Swordfish II's wings, opening up Tomato and getting down to work. With one hand typing she produced Spike's shades and Spike took them from her, putting them over his eyes for a moment. Looking around, he focused on the roof next to theirs and then brought his eyes to rest on Faye.

The female bounty hunter arched a brow at him, one hand on her hip, the other clutching her Glock. As he focused on her, her ISSP bounty stats suddenly came up. Her name, her age, the bounty on her. He nodded to himself and then called to Ed without turning from Faye, "You got the feed?"

"Hai," Ed replied, tapping quickly at the laptop. "Aaaaaaaand pictures!" And she turned the computer toward them to show them the two pictures of Faye that had been saved on the laptop, her hand on her hip, her expression anything but patient.

"That's great," Faye interrupted. "Now can we get this done?"

Spike removed his shades with a mocking smile and handed them over to the snitch. "They won't look as good on you as they would me but well, we can't all win out."

Faye rolled her eyes heavenward.

The snitch put on the shades reluctantly, glancing at them all and Ed tapped a button, the laptop still turned toward them. Faye glanced at the snitch as he looked at her. "Well, it's an improvement," she said critically, and on the laptop appeared two more pictures, one of her in the middle of speaking, and one of Spike with a half smile on his long face.

"Let's do it," Spike said with a nod. He motioned to the side of a building where a fire escape was leading all the way down to the floor below. The snitch looked at it, then at them, before bowing his head and going. "And remember, running isn't an option," Spike called after him.

"We're watching from up here?" Faye asked him. And she watched as Spike gestured toward Ed.

The hacker rose from the computer as the snitch began to climb down the ladder and Ed reached into the Swordfish II's mono pod, tossing Spike a pair of tiny binoculars.

"You better have one for me," Faye grumbled.

"Get your own," he said to her with a lazy smile, and he sauntered over to the edge of the roof, plopping his butt down and allowing his legs to dangle over the edge. Ed hopped off the wing of the Swordfish II, staring at Tomato and then she, too, sat down beside Spike but a little further back from the edge. On the laptop's screen they saw what the snitch saw which, at the moment, was the next rung on the ladder as he made it halfway down the side of the wall. Ed pulled on her goggles, also plugging in earphones, and she sat to listen, blinking owlishly.

With a sigh, Faye plopped down as well beside Spike, stretching out fully on her back to wait it out. "Got a cigarette I can bum off you?"

"Get your own," he said again, and then, "Ow!" as she smacked him a good one.

* * *

"Ok, so that would be the front entrance?" Faye asked, watching over Ed's shoulder in half interest. She rolled on her stomach in boredom, nudging Spike once more. "Do you have food _now?"_

Spike was stiff with impatience at that point. "Faye," he said slowly, looking through the binoculars across the buildings to the large one several blocks down, "if I didn't have food three minutes ago when you asked me the tenth time, what makes you think I would have food _now?"_

"Because you always manage to have food somehow even when there's none on the Bebop," she said in a tone that came dangerously close to a whine. And as he growled low in his throat, "then do you have money so that I can _get_ food? I can stop by that bodega, there's one right there," she pointed.

"Faye, I don't have a money card because you stole the one I had. I don't carry anymore money because I'm afraid of meeting up with people like you, who will _steal_ my money. So, no, Faye, I don't have money, and even if I did, none of us can actually _go_ to that bodega to get something to eat."

"Why not?" And this time there was a definite whine.

"Because Jet would have a shit attack if I let _you_ go," he grumbled under his breath. "And I'm too lazy to get up off my ass to go down there and we can't send _Ed_ because then who would watch the feed?"

Ed giggled cheerfully, still watching the scene on the laptop, and both Faye and Spike glanced at her warily.

"But I'm _hungry…"_ Faye groaned, turning her attention back to Spike.

He sighed deep in his throat, dropping his binoculars into his lap, the hand clutching them stiffening, his knuckles whitening. And he glared at her, turning to look at her over his shoulder. She stared back, smiling one of her fake, bare-all-teeth smiles. Ed merely continued to watch as the snitch slowly entered the lobby of the building, his hand popping into the picture as he pushed open the glass doors to enter.

"Do you have money, Faye?" Spike asked her with a twitching eyebrow.

Faye's smile wavered a bit. "No…"

"Then how do you really expect me to go buy something to eat if you have no money for it?" he questioned her quietly.

"I was hoping you had a money card-"

_"I don't have a money card!"_

Faye's eyes became hooded as she stared up at him, her chin propped on her hand as she shifted on her stomach a bit more. "I know that _now_. You could have told me earlier, before I started asking you. Geez, Spike, think of someone other than yourself for once."

Spike's hand stiffened in her direction and he controlled the motion, breathing deeply. It was probably a whole Zen, Jeet Kune Do thing. Faye watched him, bored, as he inhaled and exhaled, once, then twice.

"Is that like Yoga?" she asked.

"I'm counting to ten," he said through clenched teeth. "I've been told when someone _irks_ you, count to ten before you pull out your Jericho and shoot everything in sight."

"Ok," Faye nodded, pursing her lips. "Is it working?"

"Not one bit," he sighed. He tossed the binoculars onto the roof before her, swinging his legs around so that he, too, was lying on his stomach. "Wake me up when it all goes down."

"But," Faye stared at him, "I'm _huuuuungry-_"

Spike immediately feigned sleep, snoring loudly.

Faye expression darkened, her eyebrow twitching. And with a sigh, she took the binoculars, crawling forward and taking the seat he had just vacated, her long legs hanging off the side of the roof. Bringing the binoculars to her eyes, she glanced down the street and focused on the building the snitch had gone into, squinting. About 50 floors, she was guessing. Pretty new looking, too. Whatever the renovations had been, they had done a good job. She shifted the binoculars to the bodega below and stared into the door, eyes running over the fruits and vegetables. She spotted mushrooms and Ganymede lobster right beside each other just outside the door and she shuddered, directing her vision elsewhere. Who's idea of a joke had that been? "How's it looking, Ed?" she asked the hacker.

"Boring…" the hacker groaned.

"I hear ya," Faye sighed and she glanced toward Spike once more, who hadn't shifted from his original position. Silently, she rose and checked her pockets. Ok, so she had lied. Maybe she was carrying a money card on her but it was _hers_, damn it. Why couldn't she have been allowed to waste _his_ money? She quietly put down the binoculars beside Ed and tapped the hacker on the shoulder. As Ed looked up with wide amber eyes she motioned to the corner store and then the ladder to the side of building. "I'll be right back," she mouthed.

Ed nodded innocently.

What a boring stakeout this was turning into. Faye tiptoed over to the ladder and silently climbed onto it, glancing back to make sure Spike hadn't noticed her gone. She quietly and slowly made her way down, so as to avoid making noise. Better to be safe than sorry and she needed junk food _now._ So boring. She had at least hoped Spike would be in the mood for a good fight. It would have made the time fly even a little. And yet, how strange that even after all this time they couldn't really exist together in one place without some kind of argument. That should have told her something.

_It isn't meant to ever work out, Faye._

She reached the bottom of the ladder and slowly walked out of the alleyway, looking both ways as she crossed the street. As the few men awake ogled her long, slim legs she wished once more she had worn long pants for the simple fact that she still had colorful marks on them from when Ed drew on her. That and she hadn't reapplied her makeup since first leaving the Bebop and her bruises were coming through on her face. And she needed to change the bandages of her wounds, just as Spike surely needed to as well. Looked like this was turning into a medical run as well.

Inside the small store, she quickly scooped up fattening items, shoving them onto the counter, and she glanced around. "Do you carry any bandages or gauze pads?"

The small Indian man stared at her in confusion.

Faye's eyebrow twitched. "You're on the edge of the ghetto, you _have_ to carry stuff like that!" she cried and she saw a few supplies over his head behind the counter. "Right there, damn it!"

The man turned and with a smile, nodded, and handed her the toothpaste.

Faye controlled her first reaction to pull out her Glock and shoot the place up. Places like this should have bee used to it, after all. Instead, she hopped up onto the counter, giving the man a nice view of her breasts, and she reached for gauze pads and bandage wraps, along with cotton balls and antiseptic. Plopping all the items on the counter she reached behind the counter herself, proceeding to pull them open and fill up the bags.

The man watched her with a silly smile, staring at her keenly.

Filling up two paper bags, she smiled right back, blew him a kiss, and walked out cradling the bags to her chest. No problem. _And_ she had saved them some money. Yeah, she was just that good. She came out into the morning sun as it peeked overhead and as she glanced around, off in the distance came the sound of glass breaking. A lot of it. She whirled in the direction it had come from and, looking toward the building they were staking out, from a window close to the top floors, a body took a long fall, crashing on top of a parked car several blocks away. She stared in utter silence for a moment, her jaw dropping open and from above came Spike's voice angrily.

"Faye! Get your stupid ass up here!" he ordered, staring down at her from the roof and he began to turn away from the edge.

"Spike!" she cried, bringing him to a stop. "My bracelet!"

He quickly dug into his pocket and tossed it over the edge. Faye waited for it as it sailed down the three flights and she caught it, instantly opening it and flicking a button. "Let's go!" she ordered into it.

From above came the sound of an airship coming to life, the familiar sounds of the Redtail, and a moment later the Swordfish II also came on. She clicked a few more buttons and the Redtail appeared over the edge of the roof, hesitating in the air before shooting down toward her. She backed away as the ship came to hover on the sidewalk before her and she immediately flung open the mono pod seal, throwing herself in, bags and all. Overhead, the Swordfish II lifted off the building, tilting toward her, and she caught a quick glance of Ed shouting something to Spike, gesturing toward the laptop, Spike nodding in understanding. And then he looked at her and motioned toward the building.

Faye quickly turned on communications. "What are you saying?" she demanded.

"We need to go over there!" he shouted at her, his face pinched onscreen.

_"What? Why?!"_

"Because we need to get those damn shades back!" he explained and the Swordfish II was already turning in that direction. "The shades have a small chip in them, if they decide to check it out they can track us right back to Ed's computer!"

Faye growled, also maneuvering her ship. "And here I thought you wanted them back because you looked so _good_ in them," she said sarcastically and she followed as he suddenly took off in that direction.

"Now is hardly the time to flirt with me, Faye!" he snarled at her.

_"Ha! _You_ wish,_ cowboy!"

They came upon the building, Faye staring intently at the broken window the body had fallen from and down below the snitch's body had made an indent in the roof of a parked car. She stood for a moment, her stomach going cold as she merely stared at the broken body. They had done that to him. They had forced him to go back and this was what had resulted. She gazed at the blood that had splattered several yards, staining the ground in a radius, the broken glass and the glazed eyes of the snitch as he stared heavenward blankly. And she pulled the Redtail backward, feeling bile rise in her throat.

Spike brought the Swordfish II down quickly, already flinging the seal door open and he lifted himself out onto the wing, his hair blown by the powerful winds.

From the front doors of the building, several men in uniform came out, all packing, and Faye instantly turned the Redtail's machine guns on them, letting loose a patter of gunfire that shattered even more windows, sending the men in uniform running. "Move it, Spike!" she shouted at him furiously.

The bounty hunter hopped down on the broken car, stooping and picking up the busted shades where they rested several feet away on the hood of the car. Staring at the snitch's corpse for a moment he quickly turned away and hopped back up, taking hold of one of the Swordfish II's wings and hoisting himself up.

Faye tilted the Redtail up a bit, looking around quickly for more, and the men were regrouping, several more spilling out into the morning sunlight. She waited for Spike as he tossed himself back into the mono pod of the Swordfish II and sealed himself up, and then she lifted into the air, shooting off another round of gunfire as the Swordfish II joined her. And as she rose into the air she came upon the shattered window the snitch had gone flying out of.

Black Jack stood at the window, his jaw clenched, one hand shoved into the pocket of his suit, the other clutching a cigarette to his mouth. Beside him stood a larger man, arms crossed over his powerful chest and Faye recognized him as the RepairMan, hesitating with parted lips. Black Jack pulled his hand out of his pocket, patting the RepairMan on the shoulder and motioning to the mess below, and the man merely nodded, turning away from the broken window. Faye watched him, caught by the sight of him, and he exhaled cigarette smoke, merely returning the gaze before smiling faintly at her, a small humorous, and yet sincere, smile.

"Faye!" came Spike's voice angrily through her communications. "Now is _not_ the time to be checking out guys!"

Faye stared for another moment, murmuring absentmindedly, "You sound almost jealous, Spike." And she turned her head and shot up into the sky, the Swordfish II on her heels.

* * *


	18. All That Could Be But Isn't

**All That Could Be But Isn't:**

Spike stormed out of the Swordfish II, Ed following not as swiftly but a bit warily. Jet stared, a frown crossing his face as the leaner bounty hunter hopped down and stalked over to the hangar door. "What the hell happened?" he called after him and he looked toward Faye as she popped open her seal.

"It went to shit," she replied and she merely watched Spike as he vanished out the door. With a sigh she pulled herself out and sealed up the Redtail, shaking her head.

"Went to shit how?" Jet demanded. And he looked at the Redtail. "Where's the guy?"

Faye threw him a look. "Casualty of war," she said and one of Jet's eyebrows shot close to where his hairline should have been. She looked at him, leaning backward against the mono pod of the Redtail. "We shouldn't have made him go."

"We knew there was a chance-" Jet said to her.

"Fuck the chances, Jet," she snapped at him. And she hesitated, biting down on the inside of her cheek for a moment. Lifting a hand, she pointed it after Spike, her tone soft and controlled. "He _knew_ this would happen and he let it happen anyway. _I_ let it happen. I didn't say _anything_ to shut him up and we killed that man."

Jet stared at her in disbelief. "Faye."

"I'm _not_ going to keep doing this," she said with a shake f her head as she whirled around, storming toward the hangar door as well. "I _can't_ keep doing this." And she walked out, the door sliding shut behind her.

Jet glanced toward Edward, silently. The hacker shrugged, just as wordlessly, and she hopped down off the Swordfish II, lugging Tomato with her, also leaving the hangar quietly.

"What the hell is going on here?" Jet mused.

* * *

"Spike. Spike, wait!" Faye shouted after the bounty hunter as he turned a corner in the corridor.

He ignored her, moving a hell of a lot faster than she had ever seen him move. She quickened her pace before resorting to a full out run and she caught up with him, reaching out and taking hold of his arm. "Spike-"

He whirled on her, yanking free of her grip and his face was stony. Cold. She hesitated, staring at him, and he waited for her to say something, his jaw clenched.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, motioning back toward the hangar door. "You killed that guy," she said to him quietly, almost tremulously.

A smile broke out over Spike's face, as if he couldn't believe she was even going there. Shaking his head, he looked back down the corridor. "So you're going to shift this all on me? Like usual?" he asked her, and there was no humor in his tone. Even the smile on his face was forced and she felt a shiver race down her spine at that strange expression on his face.

"I'm putting the blame where it belongs, damn it!" she shouted at him furiously, feeling a sudden surge of strength just from the fact that she was shouting. "We should _not_ have made him go in. _None_ of us should be going in to take this guy down. He's over our head, he has too much going for him and you need to stop thinking you can get every fucking bounty out there!"

He suddenly took a step into her, effectively forcing her backward and against the wall. "_Fuck_ you, Faye," he snarled at her and he lifted a hand to jab at her shoulder, making her grimace as he poked the bruised flesh surrounding the gunshot wound. "From the beginning you were probably waiting for this. You were waiting for him to die so you could blame _me_ for this. You want to blame everyone except yourself for your own fucking problems but there's no one to blame _except_ you, Faye. Take come fucking responsibility-"

"Some fucking _responsibility?!_" she demanded in disbelief, her eyes widening to glare into his angry ones. "You've gotta be fucking _kidding_ me-"

"This is _your_ problem!" he shouted at her, his clenched teeth visible through his parted lips. "Why don't _you_ fucking deal with it and leave everyone else out of it?" And he backed away, turning to walk back down the corridor.

"What the hell do you want me to do, Spike?" she cried after him, her fists clenching at her side. She wasn't ready for this argument to be over just yet and there was no way she was going to let him get the last word in. "Leave the fucking ship? Is _that_ what you want?" And her voice turned into a shriek. _"Because I'm not fucking leaving! _This is more my home now that it is yours, you can't come back and decide to play _God_ with everyone on this ship-"

"So what? Do you want _me_ to leave?" he asked her, turning back around to face her from several feet away. His lifted his hands out at his sides, gesturing. "Is that what you want, Faye? Do you want me to get off this fucking ship?"

_"No!" _she shouted and she immediately wished she hadn't, wished she hadn't shown such emotion in that one cry. She shook her head at him as he stared at her, his hands coming to rest on his hips. "No, Spike, I don't want you to go. I don't want anyone on this ship to _go_. But you can't keep putting us all in the line of fire, deciding what we should do without thinking over the consequences of your decisions. We're following what you're telling us to do, but geez, at least _think _before you put all our lives on the fucking _line!"_

He narrowed his eyes at her, motioning to himself. "_This_ is the fucking package, Faye," he bit out at her, his irises dark in the dimly lit corridors. "This is what I am, _who_ I am, and how I fucking operate. If you don't like it, don't fucking _bitch_ at me about it-"

_"Bitch at you?!"_

"If you didn't want that guy to die, that guy who came on this ship to _begin_ with, ready to kill _us, _then you should have let me go in alone. I didn't need backup and this would all have been another fucking Tuesday in my life!" he yelled at her.

"And then what?" she asked him furiously, halfway to tears and she swallowed instantly. Her pride was not about to afford her those tears. "I was supposed to sit around and let you go off again? Die _again? _Because if you don't remember, you stupid _ass_, you got yourself killed last time! Or don't you remember?"

"Better me than everyone else on this fucking ship," he muttered icily.

"No, _damn it!" _she cried, wanting to throttle him angrily. "Stop wanting to go out there and get yourself killed! Stop _needing_ to die! You don't need to die, Spike! You don't need to go out there and try to get every bounty out there! And you don't need to put us all on the line to _get_ those bounties. We're a fucking _team-"_

"We're not a team, Faye," he said to her and his voice was soft, controlled. "You were an unwanted bounty to begin with. Ed was an unwanted bounty. Jet was a washed up ISSP officer and I was just along for the fucking ride." He coked his head at her as she stared at him with parted lips, stunned. "We were _never_ a team."

And he turned and finally walked away, leaving her in the middle of the corridor, silent.

* * *

Storming into his room, Spike allowed the door to slide closed behind him before he took to the nearest object and flung it furiously. And then he took the small stand the object had rested on and he flung that as well, growling with the motion. Damn it all. Damn it all to hell.

She was right. He _hated _when she was right. Because she had been right _a lot _since he had returned. She had never been right before, damn it. He lifted a hand to his forehead, feeling how hot he was, how dizzy he suddenly felt. But it felt good to throw things. It felt good to hear them shatter, to see pieces go flying across the room, slide along the floor. He went to a dresser of clothes and pulled all the drawers out, flinging them and his clothes everywhere, feeling his muscles as he strained, as he furiously worked himself into a frenetic mess of tension. It never helped anymore. None of it ever _helped_ anymore, damn it.

He went to his closet and flung those doors open as well, yanking suits off the hangers, jackets, his trench coat. Boots, socks, shirts, all of it. He merely flung everything everywhere, kicking his bed, lashing out at the dresser and destroying it with repeated kicks and assaults.

And he lifted a hand to his gun, his grip trembling.

* * *

Gunshots cut through the silence of the corridors and Jet instantly stiffened, his eyes darting around the hangar. And, wordlessly, he left the stunning heat of the world outside, racing into the ship.

Faye whirled back around, her eyes widening. Gunfire. Here? Pulling out her Glock, she flew down the corridors, her heart beating, pounding in her ears, and she came into the main room of the Bebop, looking around frantically. She didn't know where everyone was. Jet was still in the hangar and Ed was supposed to be in the hangar with him. Ein was awake but cowering beside the couch and she quickly looked toward Spike's room wondering if he had returned there. Warily, she held her weapon pointed downward, creeping toward Spike's room and as she neared she heard the gunfire as it erupted once more. Grimacing, she settled against the wall beside the door, hesitating, but the gunfire had stopped. Breathing in deeply, she counted to three and then slammed her hand on the console, hearing the door swish open. With a clenched jaw she swung her gun upward, bursting into the room, and she came to a complete stop a moment later, frowning.

Spike sat with his knees bent on the floor, his back against the wall, his head bowed. He sat surrounded by a ransacked room and Faye stared in disbelief, confusion as well. She looked down at Spike slowly, not understanding.

He had one arm propped on a knee, his hand tangled in his fuzzy green hair and, without raising his head, he instead lifted his hand and let his Jericho dangle from his finger in her direction, not meeting her eyes.

"What the fuck did you do, you idiot?" she asked him in a whisper, and she took the Jericho from him, shoving it into the waistband of the back of her pants, also holstering her Glock a second later. She took a step toward him and only then saw the blood-stained mess of his shoulder. "Did you _shoot_ yourself?" she demanded, crouching beside him and taking hold of him by the shoulders, forcing him to straighten up and sit back against the wall.

"I pulled some stitches," he growled at her and even as he said it, his face pale, he slumped against the wall wearily.

"Shit," she muttered, slapping his face to keep him conscious. But he didn't respond and with another furious,_ "Shit!"_ she called out the doorway, "Jet! _Jet!"_

* * *

"Did you manage to get anything from it all?" Jet asked Ed quietly, looming behind the hacker as she tapped at Tomato, bringing up files and images. The bounty hunter crossed his arms over his chest, one hand rubbing the back of his neck and he glanced toward Spike warily where the leaner bounty hunter lay unconscious on the couch. Faye had stitched him up again after he had found the two of them in Spike's room, and they had carried him to the couch where he had remained since.

Ed nodded. "Ed lost the feedback when Snitch-person entered the building but the shades recorded and recovered information," she explained and she picked up the busted shades, plugging a small cord in the wire frame of the shades.

"So, we have some information, at least," Jet sighed and he plopped down on the table. "It wasn't for nothing."

Faye entered the room, her hair washed and damp and she finished winding a bandage around her own wound carefully, dressed in her usual vinyl. Jet glanced at her and she returned the look silently, coming to pause behind the couch and look down on Spike's unconscious form.

"How's Sleeping Ugly?" she asked with an arch to her brow.

"I guess he's ok," Jet replied. "He hasn't woken up at all. But he probably won't be out for much longer."

"The damned idiot," she murmured, and she leaned against the back of the couch, resting her elbows on it as she finished. "Anything from the shades?"

Jet motioned as Ed turned Tomato to face them. "This was recorded from the shades," she said pointing. She tapped a few buttons as she began to explain. "This is the first floor. The shades automatically began to record here and Tomato recorded the feedback before snitch-person went into the building."

"And anything inside?" she asked.

"Where were you that you don't know what's been recorded?" Jet asked her with a frown.

"I was hungry, damn it! Why is that so wrong?"

"You were buying food?" he questioned knowingly and he plopped down on the small metal table behind Ed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"Well, if Spike had gone to get food like I _asked_ him to-"

"Spike's not supposed to be getting you food," Jet cut her off brusquely and she became silent as he glared at her. "You two aren't supposed to separate, no matter how fucking hungry you get, Faye!"

Faye's face darkened. "So, let me get this straight. I'm supposed to go everywhere with Mr. TriggerHappy here," she motioned with a trembling finger, her vein throbbing, "even if it means taking a fucking shower?"

"Hey, if you want to take your little _relationship_ to that level, be my guest! But you follow the rules I have on this ship or you get your ass off it, you understand me?" he shouted at her.

Faye stared at him, her lips pressed into a firm line. "So now you're telling me to get off this ship, too?" she asked him quietly.

Jet snickered at her, shaking his head. "Stop putting words in my mouth, Faye. I'm not going to take it the way Spike does-"

"The way _Spike_ does?" she demanded in disbelief.

"And I'm _not_ about to get myself into this with you right now," the big man said and he turned his attention back toward Ed where the hacker sat silently, listening to their conversation fly. "We'll all have a nice big, gun-fest later. Right now I want to know the reason I'm getting the Bebop outfitted with weapons."

Faye shrugged in agreement and she leaned back against the couch, looking toward Tomato.

"Ok," Ed said cheerfully and Ein wagged his tail beside her, hopping up onto the table and thus into Jet's lap. The older man made a small sound of disgust but Faye noticed he did not shove the dog away, instead patting the dog's head in defeat. "This is where the shades began to record."

The picture on the screen was a bit blurred, jumping a bit, and all in a sepia-tinged color. Faye leaned forward, squinting, Jet doing the same, and they watched as the snitch had walked in, looking around and catching the entire inside layout of the lobby. Guards had immediately come at him from either side, and also from the security console to their right. No sound came through, however, as they stopped to ask him something but he motioned upward with a finger and after several tossed around suspicious looks between the officers they had all backed away and let him pass.

"There's no sound at all?" Jet asked Ed.

"The audio was damaged," the hacker replied with a shake of her head.

The snitch went toward a small corridor straight ahead of him and past a console, and he approached several elevators, looking around. Faye watched with a small frown, chewing on her bottom lip, and the snitch sauntered over to the wall after pressing the Up arrow button for the elevator. He lifted a finger and outlined something long and rectangular and Faye realized there was a latch there, concealed only because it was the same shade as the rest of the wall.

"A circuit board, maybe," Jet murmured.

Faye nodded and the elevator opened for the snitch. Waving toward the guards the snitch entered the elevator and allowed the doors to slide shut behind him. And in the brightly lit elevator he hit 28 before looking toward the ceiling. The feed wavered for a moment but they could easily tell he was lifting his hands up to the ceiling of the elevator. As the elevator climbed up he carefully shifted a small sheet along the ceiling and he lifted himself up a bit to scan the outside of the elevator as the lift took him up.

"He was helping us out, doing this," Faye murmured, glancing toward Jet. And they both understood. The plan for him had been to merely look around, not go out of his way to bring things to light for them.

He quickly shifted the panel back as the elevator hovered over 28 and as the doors slid open he whirled. Just in time to face a young Asian teenager, his arms crossed over his chest, standing at the elevator doors. Ed straightened a bit in curiosity as Jet motioned, "The Hacker."

The snitch came to a dead stop as the boy merely stared at him silently and then, wordlessly, the boy motioned for the snitch to follow him. The snitch hesitated, obviously saying something and the boy turned to look at him with an arched brow. He mouthed something to the snitch and the snitch nodded his head slowly, finally following.

"I think this is where the shit hit the fan," Jet murmured with a shake of his head.

Faye realized then and there that she didn't want to see anymore. Swallowing, she forced herself to watch, feeling her heart race the way it usually did when she was caught doing something wrong, or when she was under the false impression that she was being pursued. Only this was so much more because she knew the snitch wouldn't be coming out alive.

The snitch followed the hacker down a long hallway, scanning the area as they walked almost nonchalantly and they paused outside a set of double doors, the hacker pausing and motioning him in. And as the snitch lifted his hand to knock the boy stopped him and motioned to his own eyes, indicating the snitch remove his shades. The snitch nodded quickly and the feed was a sudden mass of flying colors and objects as the snitch placed the shades to hang from a breast pocket in the uniform. And the feed straightened once more, only the picture was now sideways. The three of them tilted their heads to continue watching and then Ed clicked a button, pausing the recording. Clicking a few more keys, the image was turned right side up once more and she clicked one last key to continue watching.

The snitch knocked as the hacker turned away and floated back down the hallway and, before him, a large man opened the doors. Jet stiffened at his first real view of the Repairman and the bigger man stepped aside, motioning the snitch in. Suddenly quite obvious to everyone, even the two people inside the room, the snitch became reluctant. He lifted his hands, shaking them, and the RepairMan reached out and took hold of him by the collar, yanking him into the room roughly. The doors closed behind him as the snitch was whirled around and grasped by two large hands but a moment later the RepairMan glanced toward the back of the large office, a frown on his face. After a second he released the snitch, shoving him backward.

Toward Black Jack.

Jack Spade stood at the long windows that lined the entire south wall, his back to them as he smoked a cigarette. Bowing his head, the man turned then, his face blank and he motioned the snitch closer, taking a drag. The snitch floated toward him slowly and, placing the cigarette between his lips, Black Jack reached out and fixed the snitch's uniform as if they were either the best of friends or Black Jack was the snitch's tailor. His eyes were narrowed as he finished the job, patting the snitch's shirt down and he said something around the cigarette, motioning to the shades with a nod of approval. The snitch remained stiff as Black Jack spoke once more.

Faye stared, leaning in closer to get a better look at Black Jack. He was still very good-looking, refined in his mannerisms, and seemingly at ease with the world of Syndicate business around him. And he was still vaguely familiar but she couldn't place from where. She grimaced, shaking her head, just as Black Jack said something in confidence, leaning into the snitch.

And suddenly the snitch began to wave his hands frantically, pulling away from Black Jack. Black Jack's eyes were averted, his hands slowly falling to his side and he shook her head sadly, turning away once more and fixing his shirt cuffs in disappointment. The snitch gestured once more, taking a step toward him but from behind he was suddenly spun around and they all caught a quick glimpse of the gun before it went off. Faye jumped at the flash of light that indicated the weapon had gone off and a moment later she saw as the RepairMan seemed to fall back, Black Jack still shaking his head. There was a sudden view of shattering glass and then the morning sky above, a clear sepia-tinged sky. And it was all there was, that one sky that seemed to fall away as the snitch plummeted. An impact came a moment later and the recording ended in a blur of static and sudden white noise.

Ed paused the recording and glanced toward Faye and Jet.

Faye backed away from the couch, her arms lifting to embrace herself. "I need coffee," she murmured and she turned to walk down the corridor toward the kitchen.

"Why does that affect you so much?" Jet asked her quietly.

And she paused, not willing to turn her face to answer him. "Because we sent him to have that happen to him," she said in defeat. "And because it could have been Spike." And shaking her head she floated from the room, her heels clicking in the sudden quiet that was the Bebop.


	19. The Falling Star

The Falling Star:

"Get us out of here, Ed," Spike demanded tersely, looking around at the flashing red lights. He leaned backward against the wall, his arm throbbing with pain and he glanced down once more, looking past Faye's head against his collar. She had lost consciousness a moment before, her brow still drawn from her earlier snap at him. He studied the wound critically, readjusting her so that he held her with both arms but away from his frame to give him a better view. Her head lolled back, her frame limp as he examined her. She had been struck higher than he had originally thought, which would account for the reason she still breathed. But she continued to lose blood, the fluid trailing down and reflecting the darting lights of the alarms.

"Security-persons are shutting down all storage points," Ed murmured worriedly as she typed urgently into Tomato and the tone of her voice did nothing to relieve him. "Passwords are being rotated. Ed doesn't have a floor plan to-" And she suddenly broke off, excitement crossing her face. "Here!"

Spike glanced at her, swinging Faye's limp form aside to look down at the hacker on the floor. "What? What ya got?" he asked her, fighting down the sense of anxiety threatening to rise and overwhelm.

Ed wordlessly jabbed at Tomato and he merely watched the screens open, the different diagrams of the building as they were pulled up and discarded, as her smiley faces attacked the password prompts. "Almost…almost…"

He glanced at the door they waited before, looking back down the hallway they had just fled. They were going to turn that corner any second, come after the three of them with more guns blazing. He whirled back around as Tomato beeped and then the console beside the door also beeped, flashing green.

Ed yanked the cord of Tomato, pulling it loose from the storage point and Spike was already moving as the door swished open, Ed pulling her laptop with her almost frantically. "Where does this lead-" Spike shouted to her over the shrill sirens and even as he was asking he came to a dead stop, Faye hanging at his side and cradled in one arm.

"Straight to me," Black Jack answered him with a small smile, hands shoved into his pockets. And the room he waited in was filled with several men, all wielding weapons aimed at Spike and Ed. Beside him stood The Hacker, the boy's blue eyes cold, his arms crossed over his chest.

Spike's shoulders fell wearily as he lifted Faye to lean against him once more. "Thanks a lot, Ed," he said to the hacker.

* * *

She hummed still. After all this time, she still hummed him to sleep. Hummed for him to wake up. She had sung to him everyday, even if she hadn't known it. While washing dishes, while gazing out into the world through her window. After they had made love. She sang to him still.

But as the darkness lightened around him he understood that it wasn't the correct tone. Her voice had once held a motherly, caring tone to it. This voice sang with brashness to it, strong, even though it was quiet. It was a surprisingly lilting voice, nonetheless, and his eyes came open, his vision blurred. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of yellow and as he blinked wearily to focus his vision, the humming came again, louder but still gentle in the cold room. He exhaled tiredly, reveling in that voice, and he whispered faintly, "Sing for me...like that. Always."

A chair was shoved backward roughly, cutting off the singing, and he felt a presence beside him, a warmth. And a voice said quietly, "Spike?"

He nodded, his eyes slipping closed for a second. And then, opening them once more he found himself staring into wide green eyes, Faye's face hovering before him. He blinked in confusion, not understanding, and she settled back a bit, arms crossing over her chest.

"It's me. Do you understand me?" she asked him and there was the faint tone of disappointment in her tone.

He nodded once more and grimaced, for as his vision focused he felt a pounding headache hovering at the edge of his head. "What the hell happened?" he asked her with a wince.

"You fainted like a little girl, that's what happened," she said to him and even though her words sounded like the usual signal for an ensuing fight, he also caught the worry in her tone. He glanced at her from where he sat and tossed her a glare. Her expression softened at the look and she leaned over once more with curious eyes. "You ok?"

"I've been better," he replied and he lifted both hands, grasping the sides of the couch and sitting up. The move was a strain itself but the second he was sitting up Faye plopped down behind him, slouching in the warm spot his back had just left.

"Good," she piped up as he glanced at her in sleepy confusion. "Now move your ass, you've hogged this fucking couch all day and you left the seat warm." And she sighed as she settled, lifting her legs onto the table to top it all off.

Spike rose, allowing his feet to fall to the cold floor, still bemused at having been so easily brushed off. With a stunted exhalation he got up and shot her a last, utterly bewildered expression as he staggered toward the corridor. She waved him on impatiently, stretching out across the couch comfortably.

And once he was gone she smiled faintly to herself. Better to act like herself and piss him off then ever hope he had wanted _her_ to keep singing for him. She couldn't allow thoughts like that to deter her from what she needed to do. And what she needed to do was find a way out of her problems.

* * *

"So, what did I miss?" Spike asked Jet as he entered the kitchen.

"Yo, Spike," Jet said with a smile as he pulled his head out of the fridge, his large hands curled around peppers. "You're finally up."

"Have I been out that long?" he asked, leaning wearily against the kitchen doorway.

"Just about all night," Jet replied, shutting the fridge. He moved toward the stove and set up what he needed for the bell peppers. "Doohan says he's just about done with the modifications to the Bebop. We're just waiting on that now."

Spike nodded in understanding and tiredly floated over toward a seat in the kitchen, plopping down into it. He rubbed his hands over his eyes and face, feeling old. His body was aching everywhere, especially his shoulder, and as he sat there he suddenly realized how hungry he was as well. "Did I really faint like a little girl?" he asked reluctantly.

"Yep," Jet said with a smile and he placed his shades over his eyes, getting out a cutting board.

"In front of Faye?" Spike murmured in what sounded close to a whine. "She's going to use that against me for the rest of my life…"

"Nah. Only until she's used it to the point that it doesn't mean anything anymore. You know the way she is." Jet began to cut into the peppers, long strips of yellow, green and red.

"I hope you have beef for that?" Spike drawled, motioning to the slices.

"Beef?"

Spike smirked at him and he shifted his shoulder a bit, stretching it out. "I don't even remember what happened. Why the hell did I knock out like that?" He refused to use the word _faint._ Guys like him didn't faint. They were knocked unconscious or _killed_ and that was that.

Jet shrugged. "Tons of reasons," he said and he turned to the stove, turning it on. "Loss of blood. Haven't been eating. Way too thin. You didn't sleep last night either, obviously, since the trip to Mars from Earth takes a few hours. I'm guessing it all just added up."

Spike glanced around. "What time is it?"

"A little after midnight, I think," Jet frowned, also glancing around for a clock. He stopped after a moment and turned his attention back to the stove. Lifting a wok off the counter top he set it down on the flame briefly and added, "You slept the whole day-"

"Wait," Spike cut him off with a slight shake to his head. "I'm tired and slow right now. It's a little after midnight…and you're cooking _now?_" he asked with a grimace.

"Faye threw a fit, said she was hungry. I don't think that girl knows how to cook…" Jet mumbled thoughtfully as he deposited the pepper slices into the wok.

"She's always stealing Ein's food, isn't she?" Spike threw at him.

"Well, she hasn't eaten all day either. Mentioned stopping by some store while you guys were staking out the Syndicate place. Which reminds me, you should check out what Ed recorded."

Spike nodded, his eyes trained on the wok, murmuring a small, "Hmm."

"Anyway, she was lugging around a crap load of junk food but she wasn't hungry for it so she gave it all to Ed and Ein. And Doohan. He has a sweet tooth on him…"Jet continued on, shaking the slices in the wok critically.

Spike lifted his head. "Did we get anything good from the shades?"

Jet nodded although he seemed uncertain. "A bit. We got the layout of the lobby and one of the elevators, along with the 28th floor, which is where Black Jack keeps his office. There's no sound though so we can't tell what last words were exchanged."

"It's on Ed's computer?"

Jet nodded. "Yup."

"Where's Ed?"

"Sleeping on the hangar deck," Jet replied and he motioned dismissively. "Just let her sleep. She was up all day, too, seeing if she could fix the audio problem with the recording. Besides, it's late anyway. You real hungry?"

At that moment Spike's stomach chose to grumble loudly. He placed a hand on it, rubbing it. "I think that might be the answer to your question," he said with a half smile.

Jet nodded once more. "Well, I'm almost done here. Go see if you can work Ed's _Tomato_ and go through the recording. If not we'll just have Ed show you in the morning." And he waved him off then, turning his attention once more to his sizzling wok.

Spike rose with a frown and stumbled from the room. It seemed everyone was dismissing him these days. He wasn't sure yet whether it irritated him or not. He staggered right back down the hall toward the min room and he prepared himself for Faye to kick him out of that room once more as well.

Peeking his head in, he paused. She hadn't moved from the couch, her body curling in on itself and turned facing outward, away from the back of the couch. He tiptoed over to her and bent, peering at her curiously but her breathing was deep and even. She had fallen asleep in less than five minutes. He envied people like that. There were nights that he couldn't sleep no matter how hard he tried or how much liquor he took in. And from this angle she seemed almost _nice._ No worry lines, no frown lines, no mocking twist to her lips. Just one Faye Valentine, napping peacefully, legs curled in, and arms cradled against her chest. He fought back the urge to tip the couch over with her on it, or to suddenly yell and see how high she jumped. So instead he merely peered at her a bit more curiously. He backed up a bit as she murmured something and shifted, rolling away from him and leaning her whole frame against the back of the couch.

"She was awake the whole night," Jet said to him in a hushed tone, coming into the room, and he carried several empty plates with pairs of chopsticks on top, his other hand carrying the wok with the sizzling peppers. He plopped into the chair opposite the couch, setting down the plates and he handed one, along with a set of chopsticks over to Spike. "I guess she was worried about you, which is why she wasn't sleeping. But she can be a pain in the ass when she's like that. Nothing makes her happy, not even money. And she bitches all day." He paused halfway through spooning some peppers onto his plate. "Should I wake her up?"

"More food for us if you don't."

Jet nodded in agreement and gave Spike a healthy serving of peppers before spooning some onto another plate for himself. And he motioned to Tomato where the laptop remained, still plugged in but on standby. "Check it out," he said.

Rather reluctantly, Spike reached out and switched on the computer. It immediately switched off standby and he stood for a moment, staring at several different windows open. He scanned them all and Jet motioned to one window with a file named "SnitcherUp." Spike chuckled inwardly and clicked it on, sitting cautiously beside Faye's legs on the couch and then leaning forward to watch the screen, lifting several peppers with his chopsticks.

The movie played out silently, Spike watching with an indiscernible expression on his face and forgetting all about his dinner. Jet munched quietly, not really watching it again but several moments caught his attention, namely scenes with the RepairMan. It was eerie, especially with the missing audio. Spike sat through it silently, his eyes taking everything in, squinting thoughtfully here and there, especially when it came to the elevator scenes.

The recording ended several minutes later and Spike sat back and faced Jet a bit, looking down at his food before looking back at the computer screen reluctantly.

"Suddenly not hungry, right?" Jet asked knowingly. And he started as Faye suddenly reached out and curled her fingers around Spike's chopsticks, scooping up a bit and bringing it to her mouth.

"Where's _my_ plate?" she asked sleepily, chomping away wearily.

Spike glanced at her as Jet looked at the empty wok.

"Wasn't _I_ the one who made you cook?" she asked with the early traces of a bitch fit. She yawned, stretching a bit across the couch luxuriously. "How long have I been out for?"

"All of ten minutes," Spike answered.

"Wow. Sure as hell feels like it," she remarked. And she sat up achingly, grimacing. "Why is it so quiet?"

"Because it's after midnight. We try to keep parties to a minimum around this time," Spike confided in her.

"And _that_, Spike, is why you're boring," she threw in without a pause, rubbing her eyes. And he tossed her a withering look as she lifted her legs over his head, her heels knocking into his fuzzy green hair, and plopped them on the cold floor. She rose and pulled the plate right out of his hands, immediately taking a bite and walking off with his dinner. "Can't let good food go to waste. It gives bounty hunters a bad name." And she vanished out of the room, moving down the corridor.

"Jet. I just got robbed of my food."

"Don't look at me to give you mine. I _told_ you we should have woken her up."

* * *

Faye paused inside her room, clutching the plate in her hand and not even wanting to eat it. Like normal. Everything always became normal for them, even after a bad fight, a gunshot wound. A death. She put the plate down on her dresser and floated over to her bed, plopping down on it and stretching out wearily. She was so tired. Tired of stressing herself over him. Tired of being only second best. She had seen the look on his face when he had recognized her, when he had realized she hadn't been Julia. He had never once spoken to her the way he had murmured back there, coming out of the dream. And she had been struck cold by his tone.

_Is that the side Julia knew? The side of you reserved only for her? You were so…lost. And so genuine._

She faced the wall, not wanting to look toward the television. Her past was done and gone. There was no more of a reason to stare at the tape, to watch its ghostly images smile and sing and wave as if there was nothing wrong with the world. There was nothing left to do but to do away with the tape and pretend she had never seen it.

_I miss you, my past self. I miss the feeling of waking up as you and being in love, having the world revolve around me as if I were the core. I miss when my opinions mattered, when a boy smiled at me with his heart in his eyes. I miss it all._

She found a tear slipping down her face and in shame she lifted a hand to her eyes, allowing her thumb to drag away the tear and smudge the track. Was this what it was all about, what her life had amounted to? Frozen, thawed, left to survive by herself. Falling in love with the wrong guy. Having a bounty put on her head and being chased by a maniac she couldn't remember. Was this what it came down to in the end?

"What do I do?" she whispered aloud and she didn't know who she asked but she wished someone would give her an answer.

Someone knocked on the door.

She hesitated for a moment, frowning. And then, wiping away the remaining tears, she mumbled something incoherently and waited to see who it was.

The door slid open and no one spoke, the person merely remaining at her doorway. With a sigh she rolled over to face the door and Spike stood there, chewing on something that left a huge pouch of his right cheek.

"What do you want, Spike?" she asked him, rolling over once more wearily and giving him her back. Were her eyes red? She inconspicuously rubbed her hand over her cheek once more, stretching a bit and feigning sleepiness. "A woman needs her beauty sleep and you're becoming a very annoying obstacle."

"Believe me, Faye, no amount of sleep will make you-"

"Get out." She didn't even want him to finish the sentence. How simple and complex their relationship was. "Get out, get out, get out."

He hesitated and she heard plastic crinkle. "Do you want me to get out, Faye?" he asked her absentmindedly and there came the very loud sounds of him licking his fingers as he munched quietly.

"Did you get that from my back or my whole _'Get out'_ speech?" she mumbled, closing her eyes again.

"I can read minds, actually, but whatever," he said to her and a moment later the crinkling stopped as the door slid closed.

She sighed deeply, reaching out blindly for the blanket and wrapping it around herself sorrowfully. "Thank God," she whispered, burrowing deep into the blanket and exhaling tiredly. It felt like she hadn't slept in years and when she closed her eyes she only saw the face of the snitch as he gazed up blankly into the sky. It was why she had only slept ten minutes before, why she had come to and had needed to get away from the guys.

She didn't understand why it affected her so much, the death of one person, and someone she hadn't even liked at that. But then she _did_ understand why it affected her the way it did. Because had had stopped giving a damn about human lives since she had awoken from her cryogenic sleep. She hadn't cared for anything because nothing and no had cared for her. She had turned wild. And the moment Spike had died she had suddenly understood the meaning, the _weight,_ of a single human life. She had understood what it would be like to wake up in the morning, if she had been able to get any sleep the night before, and to understand that there would be no Spike to torture, no Spike to steal from. No Spike to poke fun at and no Spike to get angry at.

No Spike to stare at quietly as he ate and watched TV. No Spike to follow around and make a nuisance of herself to. No Spike to smell when she came close, close enough to sense the scent of cigarettes in his fingers and the alcohol on his breath.

Only a Spike to dream about at night and mourn during the day.

"Why couldn't he stay gone..?" she whispered so softly it was almost inaudible to herself, and barely understandable as she murmured it into the blanket.

"What? I didn't catch the last sentence," he said from behind her and she whirled in bed in disbelief, her eyes widening as she stared at him.

He sat against her wall on the cold floor, his knees drawn up and she found herself merely gazing at him, struck dumb. It was dark in her room, lit only by stars through her window and that light was weak. She could barely make him out in the darkness.

"I didn't know you were still here," she said to him numbly.

He wasn't paying her any attention, she realized a moment later. He gazed past her, his eyes focused out her window and he smiled faintly, motioning with a hand clutching something wrapped in plastic. "My star used to be right there," he said quietly, almost in wonder. "It really is gone."

Faye frowned at him in confusion. "Spike, we don't have stars. If we owned stars we'd be millions and millions of woolongs in debt and, damn it, I have enough money problems to-"

"You probably have one, too. Somewhere," he cut her off. "It's probably that big annoying white one trying to blind me-"

"Get out." She resorted to her usual tactic of getting rid of him. Ah, the memories of being annoyed at him and physically abusing him. Lying back down she motioned him away haughtily.

He sighed quietly and rose to his feet once more, taking another bite of something and she recognized it as some of the junk food she had stolen from the bodega earlier that day. "I gave that to Ed. I hope you didn't steal it straight from her mouth."

He turned to her, one hand reaching out to the console. "Take a ride with me," he said to her and she frowned at him, not understanding.

"What?"

He motioned, chewing as he spoke. "You don't believe in stars. Come with me to see someone. He'll convince you."

She threw him an impatient look. "You mean that short Indian guy?"

"Native American," he corrected her swiftly, dragging the plastic off the junk food he munched on. And he nodded, seeming quite content to be eating something fatty.

"Why do they call them Native American if they're not even American?" Faye inquired blankly, thoughtfully. "I mean, America barely exists anymore and they're still called-"

"Faye. Shut up already and let's go."

"Will he give me a palm reading?" she quipped, bypassing his insult and rising onto her rear to throw him a sardonic look.

"You're the gypsy, Romani. Give yourself a reading."

* * *

"You are…the woman." It didn't come out so much as a question as a statement.

Faye glanced down at herself just to make sure. "Um, yeah," she said, already bored, and she motioned to her ample chest as if to prove her point. She glanced over her shoulder and out the flap of the small fort Laughing Bull resided in. Outside, Spike was chewing on another piece of spongy junk food. He stood several yards away, one hand in his pocket and his back to them, staring up at the night sky. With an inward sigh she turned back around to face the little old man sitting before her with crossed legs.

Silent for a long moment he instead motioned for her to sit, his wizened old face settled into a blank and weary expression. Faye did so quietly, feeling very much out of place and she sat her rear on something hard before shoving it aside. Glancing down she frowned. Was that a Playstation system..?

"Swimming Bird has not come for many days," the old man murmured in his deep voice and Faye arched an eyebrow.

This was going to be one of _those_ talks.

"Yeah," she drawled, leaning back comfortably against something hard and pointy. "And Flying Fish will soon _fry_ in the pan…" and even as she said it her stomach growled. A second stomach rumbled right along with hers a moment later, the sound coming suspiciously from Laughing Bull and even from where she sat she heard Spike's voice from outside.

"Geez, you two. I have some more cakes if you're _that_ hungry. I could probably hear you from the Bebop-"

"Swimming Bird has lost much of his impatience," the old man said quietly.

Faye blinked at that. "Swimming Bird has-" she echoed, understanding suddenly. She flung aside the flap behind her, pointing at Spike. _"You're_ Swimming Bird?" And she erupted into loud, floor thumping laughter.

Spike threw her a withering look.

Composing herself after a moment Faye pulled herself back in and straightened once more, forcing herself to be a good little girl and pay the old man some attention. "Ok, here's my palm. Will he be rich?" she demanded, holding out her hand to him.

Laughing Bull wasn't one to laugh much, it seemed. He instead lowered his hand to the ground and dragged a wrinkled finger through the sand, tracing small designs. Faye plopped her hand back into her lap, merely watching him as he murmured, ""You, Sleeping Cat, have slept for far too long."

Faye pointed to herself, mouthing, _"Sleeping Cat?"_ as if she couldn't believe it.

"There is a man," Laughing Bull continued on slowly, thoughtfully, and he lifted a handful of sand into his palm and allowed the grains to fall through his parted fingers. "The Stalking Wolf. He finds you wherever you go. He has searched for you for a long, long time."

Faye's amusement popped like a balloon that Ed had taken a pin to. She stared at the wizened old man, frowning gently. "What?"

"He searches still for you but he knows where you are. Even now he watches you. And he is patient."

Faye swallowed and slowly leaned forward toward the old man, gazing at him intently. "You mean…Black Jack?" she asked him firmly.

"Your star will fall," Laughing Bull said to her.

Faye blinked at him silently, not understanding.

"The tiger-striped cat has no more deaths to die. And you, Sleeping Cat, are not the white cat he has lost. But perhaps one day…you shall be." And with that Laughing Bull settled into silence, even as Faye waited for him to say more. But there was nothing more to say, it seemed, and she rose after a long quiet time, staggering out through the flap and coming to a stop to merely stare at Spike's back as he smoked a cigarette, still gazing up at the sky.

"Did you hear?" she asked him faintly.

He turned a bit toward her from where he continued to stand several yards away. "I think I found your star," he said to her with a wry smile and he leaned toward her a bit as she came closer, motioning toward the night sky with his burning cigarette. "It's that yellow one, right there."

Faye looked up dumbly, looking in the direction he pointed and it was brilliant, her star. It glowed wonderfully, fixed in the night sky proudly. She paused beside him, feeling deep inside that she understood why he would think it was her star because even she believed then that it was hers. Proudly, brilliant and flaring powerfully. Yellow. Everything she felt she was, believed herself to be.

Perhaps Spike saw her the same way.

He glanced at her, turning his attention away from her star for a moment, still smiling, and she was drawn to that smile the way she was drawn to her star.

_You don't smile like that often. I love that smile._

"Ready to go?" he asked her and without waiting for an answer he turned, tossing his cigarette and floating toward his Swordfish II.

"Don't you want to know what he said?" she called after him, bringing him to a stop.

But Spike shook his head, still facing his ship, a soft breeze ruffling his wild hair. "Whatever he says is for you alone. But I wouldn't mind knowing what he called you." And he turned to glance at her, an eyebrow arched questioningly.

She allowed the wry smile to curl her lips. "Sleeping Cat," she said to him quietly.

Spike sighed at that and he turned back around, nearing his ship and climbing up onto it. "He never was creative," he said with a shake of his head as he opened the seal. "Couldn't he come up with something better? Like Frozen Earthling..?"

Faye stared at him for a moment as he mumbled and settled himself into the Swordfish II before shaking her head, her smile widening as she went for her Redtail.

* * *

"So, why did you take me to see Squatting Bull?" Faye asked, her tone already leaking impatience as she hopped out of her Redtail and landed on the hangar deck quietly.

"Laughing Bull," Spike corrected her with an arched brow, sealing up his Swordfish II.

"Seeing as how he didn't laugh, much less crack a smile, I've changed his name to suit my liking. Now answer my question," she said, glancing toward him as he finally hopped down off his ship onto the deck floor of the Bebop.

He took his sweet time moving to reach her. "I was bored."

She whirled on him. "Spike," she snarled. And as he sent her an innocent expression she continued threateningly, "You're about to be very _busy_ protecting your _ass_ from me-"

He actually laughed at that, cutting her off. "Faye, the day you pose a threat-" he began and then, waving it off quickly, "better yet, the day you get one good, _solid,_ punch in my face, excluding catching me sleeping or showering, is that day I answer any question you ask me."

"Really?" she asked him in surprise, falling into step beside him as they made their way to the doorway of the hangar. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

"I'm saying it to make _myself_ feel better," he replied. And he sent her a malicious smile. "You'll never get that punch in."

"Yes, I will," she said and even as she threw her response at him casually she was promising herself. She would do it one day. No matter how long it took, one day she would. Before he left for the last time. Shaking her head inwardly she returned her attention to him, nudging him in the side. "But in all seriousness, why did we go to see him?"

He shrugged as they left the hangar, turning down the corridor. "Just to make you see."

"Make me see what?"

Spike reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Even as he flipped off the lid of the carton she was shoving his other hand over and scoring herself a cigarette. He sighed, pulling one out for himself and as he pulled out a book of matches he managed to duck her reaching hands, swatting them away and then pointing at her firmly but silently with a finger as if to say, "_Down, girl."_

"Make me see what?" she demanded again, resigned to wait until he had finished lighting his cigarette first.

He lit his cigarette and handed her the matches, putting away his carton of cigarettes. "Make you _see…_" he stressed, "that there is a purpose." And he took a drag as they walked comfortably.

"A purpose to..?" she prodded, lighting her cigarette and waving the match to put out the flame.

"A purpose to your life," he answered her as if she should have known what he was getting at. "A purpose for others to play a part in your life." He slanted a glance at her, accepting his matches as she handed them back to him. "There's always a lesson involved, Faye."

"Is there?" she asked in a withering tone.

"Learn from me, Grasshopper, and stop being a total bitch."

She smirked at him. "Oh yeah, talk dirty to me, Spike."

He was nodding wisely, skipping right over what she said and no doubt musing on his own last sentence. "Someone famous once said that. Bruce Lee? A great man but I doubt those were his words…"

She nodded with him. "So, what's my purpose, Spike? What is my reason for being? And why is everyone else all up in my existence?"

"Depends on what he told you."

Faye paused for a small moment thoughtfully. "Then you can translate for me because my mind is overworked with all the excitement of the day. He called me Sleeping Cat and that _better_ not have been a crack at my cryo-sleep. Then he told me the Stalking Wolf was after me. That would have been a turn on if I hadn't understood. And he mentioned something about another cat but," she waved that off, "that one I understood, too."

Spike remained politely shut, looking massively bored as they walked down the corridor.

"And, oh yeah," she smacked him across the arm to wake him up. "My star is going to fall."

Spike slowed at that, munching on the edge of his cigarette. "He…said that?" he asked quietly, still maintaining his bored expression but there was something in the air then, a feeling. Faye looked at him quizzically, slowing as well.

"Yeah, why?"

Spike hesitated. "No reason." And he lifted his head and quickened his pace. "I'm going to bed."

"You _are?!"_ she demanded. "You've slept all day and you dragged me out of bed and _now_ you're going to sleep?"

"Hey," he cut her off. "It takes a lot of work to deal with you, Faye. You wear me out."

She sighed, pausing in the common room as he moved to continue on toward his room. "Hey, Spike," she called after him and he turned to face her, still walking, making his way to his room backward. She didn't say anything for a moment, waiting for him to stop and he did so after a moment. "Are we still going in there?"

He hesitated, the expression on his face stating that he was trying to understand her question. And then he shrugged, seeming to understand the reason for her sudden subject change. "I don't know about you but I am," he replied and he motioned to her with his cigarette. "It's up to you if you are."

She gazed at him. "And if I don't want to?"

"Then there is no purpose," he stated simply. And with a small secretive smile, he added, "And that, Grasshopper, is the lesson."

With that he turned and continued down the hallway, beginning to whistle a very familiar tune as he went. Several moments later his whistling dwindled, his door swishing open and closing quietly.

_"Is_ that the lesson?" she murmured after him. And she plopped her butt down on the ugly yellow couch with a sigh, mumbling crankily, "Whatever happened to never leave anything in the fridge?"


	20. Nothing But Bad Luck

**Nothing But Bad Luck:**

"The repairs are done," Jet said quietly and he cracked another egg into the skillet, watching it fry for a long moment.

Ed looked at him blearily, barely mustering an expression. Sitting beside her at the small kitchen table, plopped on its sturdy surface, Ein sat cheerful as usual. "Ed doesn't care about repairs," she let him know and she yawned widely, scratching her stomach under her loose shirt. "Ed's tummy hurts."

"All that junk food Faye got you?" Jet asked, slanting a glance her way.

"Old repairman-person ate them all," Ed sighed. "Left Ed gauze and bandages."

Jet chuckled. "That's ok. You get first dibs on-"

_"Food!"_ Faye shrieked, coming into the kitchen, and she appeared at Jet's shoulder, gazing down into the frying pan with a melting expression, hearts practically thumping in her eyes. "Fooooooooood-"

Ed screamed in protest, throwing herself at Faye's leg and biting down on one of her bared calves. "Nooo! It's Ed's! It's _Ed's!"_

A moment later Faye began to scream as well, kicking out with the leg Ed was latched onto and it was going to be another one of those mornings.

Spike entered the kitchen moments later to the sound of Faye screaming furiously, Ed growling around her teeth embedded in Faye's calf, Jet yelling and ordering them both out, and Ein panting cheerfully. "Hey, boy," Spike greeted the dog sleepily, asking, "What's for breakfast?"

Ein cocked his head and whimpered.

"Out! _Out!" _Jet roared, shoving Faye who in turn dragged Ed, and he pushed them both out the kitchen doorway as Spike floated by them all and reached for a fork innocently. "How am I supposed to cook if you're all in the way?"

"Mmm," Spike mumbled and they all turned to stare at him as he spooned some egg into his mouth. "These eggs are good, Jet. Got any bacon?"

Before giving them a chance to say anything more, Jet hit the console, the door sliding shut on the two females. "God," Jet groaned, leaning against the doorway. "Damn pack of wolves!"

"And you left the two of them out there with each other. I bet a thousand woolongs on the freakish little computer girl," Spike said, eating some more. "Can I finish this?"

"Yeah," Jet sighed wearily. "Just do me a favor and put on some coffee?"

Spike nodded, taking the skillet with him as he set to the task.

"The repairs are done," Jet said to him quietly and Spike showed no sign of even hearing him. "Where did you two go off to last night?"

"How do you know we left?" Spike inquired, putting on the coffee machine.

"Doohan was done with the repairs last night. Came by looking for you and after I worried myself to nothing I noticed both the ships gone."

Spike nodded once more. "Went to see Laugh Bull, Running Rock," he replied.

"Don't call me that."

Spike shrugged as if to say, _"Whatever,"_ and he dragged the fork across the skillet, eating the rest of the eggs quietly.

"Was he surprised to see you alive?" Jet asked him.

"I couldn't tell under the mounds of wrinkles on his face." Spike dropped the empty skillet back onto the stovetop, wiping his mouth contentedly. "But I don't think he was. Nothing really…surprises him…"

Jet nodded in understanding. "What did he say to you?"

"Didn't go for me. Took Faye," Spike replied and he walked by the older man and stuck his head in the fridge. "Where'd all the beer go?"

"What'd he say to Faye?" Jet inquired, looking toward the leaner bounty hunter. And he shooed Spike out of the fridge. "There's no beer. We ran out."

_"Already?!"_ Spike demanded. "Did _you-"_

"Doohan," Jet grumbled. "He's going to eat us out of everything we own and _then_ demand payment for the weapons." And he motioned to Spike. "What did Laughing Bull say to Faye?"

Spike paused. "She's right. Why _do_ we call him Laughing Bull? He never laughs-"

Jet stared at him, frowning slowly. "Spike," he said in a quietly gruff tone, "What the hell did he say to Faye?"

Spike settled into silence, leaning against the side of the fridge. "Said Faye's star was going to fall," he answered softly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Jet continued to stare at him, silently.

With a sigh, Spike went to the table and plopped down on a seat. "And something about a wolf which I guess refers to Black Jack. That was about it, really-"

"Her star's going to fall?" Jet echoed brusquely.

Spike quiet down once more, leaning back in the chair. "Yup."

"When?" Jet asked him.

Spike leaned his head back impatiently, eyes closing. "I don't know," he sighed. "I can't read minds, Jet, and I sure as hell can't read _stars-"_

"Will this whole thing do it? Going into that damn building? If it does, _forget_ it-"

"So what if it does?" Spike cut him off. "What if this is the thing that kills her? Would it be better to run? How do we know what really causes a person's death?"

Jet stared at him as if he had lost his mind. "What in the _hell_ are you talking about, Spike?" he growled at his partner.

Spike broke off with a soft sigh, lifting a hand to his eyes and rubbing them. "I don't even know what I'm saying," he admitted wearily. "But I _do_ know that no matter what happens, her star is going to fall. So whether she goes into that building on the exact day we plan it, or whether she decides to stay, or even if she starts running now, we don't know what causes it and we don't know what can stop it." He shook his head, his stare blank. "We don't know what to really do about it. So what do you _really_ do when you don't know what to do?"

Jet stared for another long moment, silent, and as Spike exhaled tiredly the bigger man came close and merely leaned against the table, his gruff voice quiet. "They really did a number on you, didn't they?" he asked him, sounding sympathetic.

Spike glanced at him quickly. "No. I'm just…tired. I'm starting to ramble. I need some more sleep-"

"Or maybe you're just now waking up," Jet corrected him and the leaner bounty hunter looked at him once more in confusion.

"What do you-"

The door swished open then, interrupting them both and Faye stood there, Ed hanging back and cuddling Ein warily. "You guys act as if I can't hear you through the door," she murmured. They both stared at her as she entered the kitchen, pausing beside the fridge and opening it to gaze into it blankly as if searching for something she knew wasn't there.

Both Jet and Spike waited for her, Spike turning his face away and trailing long fingers across the table surface.

"So, that's what it means? When a star falls?" she asked, still searching the fridge.

"Gren's star fell," Spike murmured quietly, almost absentmindedly.

She glared at him instantly, whirling to look at the bounty hunter. "Don't!" she snapped at him, slamming the refrigerator shut and causing him to look at her quickly in surprise at her harsh tone. "You don't get to talk about him! While I was out getting my ass tied up and knocked unconscious, you were out chasing after a ghost! You don't get to say _anything_ about Gren-"

"Faye-" Jet began quietly.

"You act as if he meant something, Faye," Spike countered lazily, speaking right over Jet although his tone was softer than Jet's own. He leaned his head back to glance at her insolently. "He was some guy who swept you off your feet. The truth of the matter is he was a guy who had a bad deal and even worse luck. In the end he didn't die the death he wanted and _that-"_

"Did your star fall, Spike? Is that the reason you don't see it anymore?" she demanded.

Spike clenched his jaw, turning back to the table. "My star faded," he replied. "I did what I had to do and it faded away."

Faye stared at him coldly as he turned his back on her, Jet sighing wearily in the silence that followed. The mere sight of his back angered her further, broke her rage. "And Julia?" she asked, scorn rising in her tone at the mention of the woman's name. "Did Julia's star fade? Or in the end, did she fall, too? Was seeing you the last thing she had to do to die happy? Or did it-"

Spike snapped off his chair in one smooth and quite furious movement, causing her to break off in mid-sentence. "I am sick and _tired_ of hearing _her_ name come out of _your_ mouth," he snarled at her, whirling to face her. His eyes narrowed as he continued on, his tone cold and dark. "When you say her name, Faye, you twist it and damage it and if you keep doing it-"

"You'll what?" she countered. "You'll hit me? You'll leave again? You'll go out and get yourself killed? Please," she growled snippily, "been there, done that, right? It's nothing new. Next time I'll just know better-"

"Yeah and maybe next time you can stop hounding my ass about your fucking feelings!" he shouted at her and in the doorway even Ed cowered a bit, Ein's ears flat against his skull, a low growl issuing from his snout. Jet merely stared, uncertain as to how to stop the feud.

"My fucking _feelings?"_ she screamed at him in cold fury. _"My fucking feelings?!"_

"Enough with the whole _'worrying about Spike'_ bit! Enough with the stupid notion that I give a damn about you!" Spike ordered and his lean frame was tense with pent up anger. It had been a long time coming and Faye only saw it now, the utter rage he had inside. "I don't love you, Faye! I don't feel anything toward you except pity! And maybe even disgust when I see your face-"

Faye's lips parted in disbelief, Jet quickly cutting in between them, his hands lifted to both of them. "Now hold on there-"

"No, let's talk about this," Spike continued on over him, his mismatched eyes gleaming as he stared at Faye. "Let's talk about how much I don't give a shit. Let's talk about Julia. And Gren. And anyone else you want to talk about. And let's remind ourselves that they're both dead-"

"You fucking remind _yourself,_" she hissed at him, bringing him to a stop. "You remind yourself all you want, cowboy, because you're not _grasping_ it yet. She's _dead,_ Spike." Her eyes narrowed as she said it, as she took a step closer to him to jam it into his head. "Julia died right before you did and unlike you, she's not coming back." She lifted a finger and jabbed him in the chest, her frame shaking. "But you know what? So _what_ if she's dead?" She jabbed him again, glaring him dead in his eyes. "So what? Just because she's dead doesn't mean _you_ are." And she held her gaze for another moment, fighting the trembling she felt, the adrenaline racing through her. "And just because Gren is dead doesn't mean _I_ am."

Jet was nodding behind her as if he agreed. "Spike's star faded but he's still here. Right?" he asked, looking toward the leaner bounty hunter.

Faye cocked her head a bit in Jet's direction but when Spike looked at him there was an indiscernible expression on his face. "Am I?" he asked faintly. And stuffing his hands in his pockets he brushed by Jet and by Faye, who averted her eyes and did not meet his gaze, leaving the room silently.

Faye hesitated, still looking toward Jet and the silence that ensued was one of the most awkward she had ever had to face. Shaking her head at Jet she whispered softly, "He's never going to talk about it, is he?"

--

"So?" came Spike's voice and he spoke softly, very softly. "What do you think?"

Faye frowned faintly as she came from the hangar, slowing down the corridor from Jet's room. She had gone to her Redtail, listened to some music, all the while to contemplate the identity of Black Jack and also Spike's words. Mostly to mull over Spike's words, she thought flatly. It had done nothing but darken her mood further. But this here was now raising her suspicion at how quietly and secretive the tone of the conversation was. She leaned against the wall wondering momentarily if she should have felt bad for eavesdropping. But she couldn't find it in herself to.

_Maybe Poker Alice lives in me yet._

She hovered there quietly, careful of her wounded arm and paused to listen.

"I think she's going to hate you," Jet was answering firmly.

"She already hates me."

"And this will make her despise you. Really, Spike, I don't like this. Not at all." And Jet sounded as if he really didn't.

"But…it's the only way, right? Unless you can think of something better?"

Jet hesitated and he let out a gruff sigh as if he had risen from sitting in the same spot for too long. "Of course I can't think of anything better."

"So?" Spike repeated. "Come on, Jet, it's a plan-"

"It's a stupid plan and I hate calling in favors. You know I do. And besides, if it didn't work for him, why would it work for her?"

Their voices grew louder and she realized they had left Jet's room and were slowly making their way down the hallway. She looked back the way she had come and she wouldn't get back to the hangar in time to hide from them. Quickly composing herself, she shifted into offense and stomped two steps loudly before suddenly coming out in front of them, brushing her hair back from her cheek. "Oh, hey boys."

Both Spike and Jet paused, Jet looking down the hallway past her shoulder suspiciously. "Where are you coming from?"

"The hangar," she replied, motioning with her good arm. "Thought you finally got rid of me, Jet?"

"We can only hope," Spike corrected and he cut in front of the larger bounty hunter, throwing him a piercing look. "Come on," he said to her, shoving her backward a bit, "we're going out."

Faye stared at him for a moment, frowning. "We are?" she questioned and she looked at Jet as his face darkened. "Where are we going?"

Wordlessly, but alerting Faye to the fact that something had just transpired between the bounty hunters, something she was not in on, Jet turned from them and stormed down the rest of the hallway, heading back toward his room. Faye watched him walk off, a shiver running down her spine but Spike firmly took hold of her wrist, yanking on her. "Ow," she snarled at him, still looking off after Jet as Spike began to drag her back toward the hangar. "Watch the arm, damn it. And where are we _going?_"

"Why do you have to ask so many questions?" he asked her irritably, clutching her hand. And as she grumbled another growl of pain at him he released her gingerly, glancing back at her. He seemed ready to say something but as she stared at him he shut down and continued on.

Faye had to run to catch up again. "You're not sorry, are you?" she asked him and her question broke him out of his stride. As he slowed down she reiterated, "You don't care whether your words hurt anyone, or _who_ they hurt. Anything to make it stop."

"You had it coming, Faye," he said to her darkly. "Ever since I got back it's like you've been on the attack with me. How would you like me to react?" He shoved his hands in his pockets as they walked, his shoulders high, his head bowed. "Not everything about my life is your business. _Nothing_ of my life is your business. Some things I like to keep to myself. Just like I don't ask you about your life growing up. I don't ask you about your accident, your frozen sleep. Because I know some things are touchy. You'd bite my head off faster and angrier if I waded into that territory-"

"I would not, Spike," she argued and she realized she literally had to run to keep up with him. "That's something I've been talking over with Jet this whole time. How we don't talk, how no one cares. You can't automatically assume-"

"Faye," he said and he came to a dead stop, lifting a hand, his eyes focusing on hers as she paused before him. "The first thing you did when I even _mentioned_ Gren's name was get your panties in a twist. You practically bit my head off-"

"That is _not_ true," she cut him off. "I don't _wear_ panties, how would I get them in a twist?"

He stared at her for a moment, and she congratulated herself on a good job of making him forget whatever it was he was trying to say. Blinking, he dropped his hand at his side and shook his head, and she realized he was fighting to hide a smile. She propped her hands on her hips, a mischievous smile curling her own lips as she merely waited for him.

"And you say we can't get along," Faye threw at him.

"Do you seriously go commando everywhere?" he asked her, his head tilting and his eyes darting down her frame.

Faye turned from him and sauntered off toward the hangar. "Looks like you'll never find out," she retorted impishly. "Wasn't it you who this morning went on about not liking me, about having only pity for me? Even disgust?"

"You pissed me off, Faye, and you _really_ had it coming-"

"I'm sure-" and she suddenly broke off, her frame stiff.

Spike glanced at her, halfway through fishing in his pocket for his carton of cigarettes. Reaching her, he pulled one out and clenched it with his mouth.

"Spike…" she whispered, her lips parting. He paused in mid-step beside her, his cigarette dangling from his mouth as he fished for matches. "Hmm?"

She lifted her gaze to his, her face pale. "I remember. I remember who he is. Where I've seen him before," she murmured and catching the frown that formed on Spike's face she reached out and took hold of him by his tie, yanking him down to meet her eyes head on. He staggered forward a bit, his mismatched eyes widening as he came within an inch of her. "Black Jack!" She shouted in explanation, Spike blinking at her owlishly. "I know!"

"From where?" he asked her and he watched her as she released him and took off, turning into the hangar. "Hey!"

"Get in the Swordfish!" she ordered, having already reached the Redtail by the time Spike managed to get to the hangar. She hopped up and opened up the seal to her ship. "I'll tell you on the way to Raleigh!"

_"Raleigh?!"_

But he did as she asked, flinging aside his unlit cigarette and racing for the Swordfish.

She waited as he hopped up onto his ship, strapping himself in, and she immediately opened up the comm channel. "Looks like whatever you wanted to show me is going to have to wait!"

"Yeah," he murmured then, his expression unreadable. "Give me a sec, I have to make a call."

"To who?!" she demanded.

His face darkened. "Geez, Faye, mind your business! Go on ahead, I'll catch up-"

Faye stared at him, frowning slowly but as he held her gaze she merely threw him a look. "Fine." And she cut the communications, setting up the Redtail for takeoff. "Here's to nothing but bad luck."

--

Several hours later the ruined city of Raleigh came into view. Faye felt her heart begin to pound as she stared down at it below. She was close. She was very close to understanding who Black Jack was. Or rather, who he had been. She just had to make sure-

Landing her Redtail on the side of the road that led to the incline she hopped out and looked up as the Swordfish II touched down in the night. She motioned to Spike who in turn gestured for her to go on and he turned his attention to his communications device, the flashing screen throwing light on his face in the night. She frowned once more at him but turned anyway, racing up the incline. Running past houses, she slowed before one single home, staring intently. Yes, it was slowly coming back. With an inward smile she ran on, feeling her heart pound in exhilaration.

At the top of the incline she fell into a crouch back where her room had fallen to the ground floor and she searched in the darkness, shoving aside debris and looking almost frantically. It was too dark and she didn't have a light to see by, nothing except starlight. Her hand brushed a hard, padded edge and in the faint light she saw that it was the photo album. With a low, "Yes!" she flung the book open, scanning the photos quickly, one by one. No. No. No. No. No…

And she paused on the one with her image on Charlie Parkerson's back. She held it up to the starlight, squinting and staring at first her face then Charlie's. And behind her she heard Spike as he came up quietly. "Spike, got a light?"

He held out a book of matches. "Is this an angry-woman thing where you burn all your pictures in a wastebasket and convince yourself you don't need men?" he asked her in a bored tone, speaking around a lit cigarette.

"A flashlight, you lunkhead!" she shouted at him, holding the book up for him to see. "I need to see something-"

"No flashlight," he said and he took a corner of the photo album, crouching close to her side and staring at the pictures intently, his cigarette flaring brightly from his fingers. "This is the only light you have."

She shared the book with him. "This picture right here," she said to him excitedly, and she pointed to the one with her on Charlie's back. "Who do you see in the background?"

"Who do I-" he asked and he put his cigarette to his mouth, taking the photo album with both hands. "Who the hell am I _supposed_ to see? I can't see _shit-"_

And from above they suddenly heard the engine of an approaching ship. A powerful beam of light flared, bathing them in pure white and Spike had half a mind to say casually, "Oh, that's a _lot_ better!" while Faye stared up, bringing a hand to her eyes as her vision swam.

"ISSP Bounty Code #D48170XD: Subject: Valentine Faye. This is the ISSP," a booming voice broke from the ship and Faye stared in utter silence, her entire frame going cold. Beside her Spike also lifted his head, his eyes narrowed. "By order of the Interplanetary Solar System Police you are hereby under arrest. Stand up slowly and put your hands behind your head."

Faye lowered her hand to stare straight at the ship hovering overhead. "What the hell..?" she whispered in disbelief. There were more ships approaching in the distance and she looked around in one furtive glance, Spike silent beside her.

"I repeat, Valentine Faye, by order of the ISSP, you are under arrest. I hereby order you to stand slowly and put your hands behind your head. Disobeying this direct order will only further complicate-"

Faye looked around quickly searching for the nearest direction to go that would take her away from the spotlight, from the spot she currently crouched in with Spike. If they split up maybe they could make it to their respective ships and run. But she could only see one way to go from where she crouched. Back the way she had come. If she ran back that way and then maybe cut through a car garage or vaulted a fence she would be able to change direction, no problem.

"Spike," she whispered out of the corner of her mouth. "Look, we can go back down the hill and split up. Ok?"

"Valentine Faye! ISSP Bounty Code-"

"Do you hear me?!" she hissed and she looked at him then.

He was staring at her coolly. "Don't run, Faye."

She blinked at his tone, at the expression on his face. "What?"

"Don't run, Faye," he repeated and he said it slowly and clearly, even as the officer's voice boomed above them. "They'll take you in and put you under a different name, don't-"

"What the fuck are you _talking_ about, Spike?!" she demanded of him. And staring at him intently she suddenly understood, gazing at his pale face in the light's beam.

He returned the stare blankly.

"You…did this," she whispered, even as the voice commanded above, as their ships blew her hair about her face. "You…turned me in…"

He didn't reply to that. "Don't run, Faye."

She stared at him dumbly for another long moment, her lips parting in disbelief. His face was blank still, void of expression and for the first time in her life she wanted to break something, anything, in his perfect face. She wanted the gut wrenching feeling she had inside to go away. And she wanted for all of this not to happen. Slowly, she raised her head to look into the beams of the ISSP's searchlights, her face pale. Her green eyes searched the ship, her rapid breathing suddenly slowing. And Spike saw it coming, probably before she herself saw it.

_"Faye-"_

With a small sound she rose to her feet, instantly whirling, and she took off. The searchlights immediately followed, darting after her fleeing figure and Spike lunged to his feet, clutching the photo album. "Hey! Faye, wait-"

She could move, he would give her that. In the night she was a flash of yellow and skin, even in heels. Spike took a step after her as the ISSP ships began to follow and then, pausing, he instead wound around and went to his right, intent on cutting her off. Which meant the moment she realized it, she was going to run to avoid it. He growled low in his throat as he went. Why couldn't she see they were doing this to _help_ her? He lifted his head to the searchlights, following their progress as they tailed Faye and he ran faster, coming to a low obstacle in his way and vaulting it mindlessly, only realizing a moment later it was an old garbage can. He found himself coming to a small alley between old houses and threw himself at the fence in the back, easily clearing it and clutching the photo album to his chest.

She was going to hate him.

--

_I hate him. I hate him. I hate him…_

Faye felt the tears rise in her eyes and she angrily swiped them away. Bullshit. There was no fucking way she was going to cry over this. If she had never cried over losing her memories, her entire past, she was not about to cry over being betrayed by a friend.

By Spike.

They were on her. She ran as if chased by the devil, pouting inwardly. She already saw the morning headlines, "Strange amnesiac woman pursued by ISSP discovered to be thawed cavewoman from 21st century." What a crummy month this was turning out to be. She threw herself sideways, suddenly breaking the ISSP ships, and she huddled under a rose hedge in someone's backyard, looking down the hill toward her Redtail. ISSP officers huddled around the ship and the Swordfish II but she couldn't see Spike amongst them.

_He's going to collect the bounty on me. The bastard did it for the money, finally. Couldn't deal with having me on the ship anymore-_

And she found herself realizing she couldn't blame him for wanting her off the ship. She had risked all their lives merely remaining on the Bebop. But to have it happen like this. It was wrong.

As the searchlights passed over her she quickly ducked down and held her breath, praying. She couldn't remember the last time she had prayed to a God, any God. She doubted it had done her any good before either. The searchlights swung widely, shooting further ahead and she maintained her position for another moment before rising and racing to her right. Behind her she was aware of the searchlights still roaming and she cast one more glance to her Redtail.

_Damn it!_

Ducking by more rosebushes she came to a stop as the searchlights flew over her position. Up ahead the hill went down into a small patch of trees and she saw the headlights hover there, searching that patch. She waited impatiently for them to conclude that she wasn't there. Once they did she could make a beeline for it and then pass it by. There was suddenly a very good chance that she was going to make it out of there.

And crouching there anxiously she realized it was over and that her time was up. She wouldn't be going back to the Bebop, wouldn't hear Jet bitch about her. She wouldn't wake up at midnight and encounter Ed on Tomato, Ein by her side asleep.

And she wouldn't smell Spike's cigarettes on herself. It was all finally over.

The searchlights swung away, shooting ahead and in the passing beams she suddenly saw the officers rappelling down, armed. She stared, a whispered, _"Fuck!"_ making it past her lips. And she had to move. Right then and there she knew she had to move. Rising in the darkness she quickly raced toward the clump of trees, ducking her way into them. She was not wearing the right thing at all for this game of pursuit. Had she known this was going to happen she would have shot Spike. Again.

Sounds came from the trees all around and she knew they were in the forest with her. With a growl she ran once more, making just as much noise as they made. The searchlights weren't visible and she hoped that meant they were checking out another area entirely. She put on a burst of speed, paying attention to the searchlights as they swung about back where she had come from and she came to the edge of the small clump of trees. From here it was all clear land and old houses throughout. Several looked abandoned anyway, she reflected, as she broke from the trees and raced across clear ground. If she could make it to one abandoned house she could stay there for the remainder of the night and leave in the morning. She was going to have to-

Up ahead out of the corner of her eye she caught movement and she whirled in time to run into Spike. Her mind instantly screamed a million curses at him, her face darkening.

"Faye!" he shouted as he pulled up before her.

Without waiting a moment she pulled back a fist and caught him across the jaw with it, reveling in the fact that her punch made him pull up short, his head shoved to the side from the blow.

"Fuck-" he growled, lifting a hand halfway to his face. "You _bitch-"_

"Get the hell out of the way!" she screamed at him and even as she went to go around him he pulled into the way, effectively blocking her, the corner of his lips stained with blood. She snarled at him, pulling back another fist. "I said, get _out_ of the _way-"_

Something struck her in the neck, a sharp stinging pain and she grimaced for a moment, her hand automatically lifting to the spot. She encountered a small object there, stabbing into her neck and she frowned for a small instant in confusion before realizing what it was. And her knees suddenly faltered, the world spinning around her. Her form fell forward into Spike numbly and he caught her under the arms, still clutching the photo album, his face blurring before her eyes.

"You fucking traitor…" she managed to make out before losing consciousness against his shoulder.

--


	21. Caught in a Picture

**Caught in a Picture:**

When Spike returned to the Bebop he didn't know what to expect. Landing the Swordfish II in the hangar, he turned off all systems and sat in black silence for a small moment, his hands clenching and unclenching in his racing gloves. It was a good plan, he told himself yet again. And once Black Jack gave up on Faye they would spring her out, clear her.

_He's been searching for her for a long time…_

And then Jet had warned him of the small chance that they _wouldn't_ let her out. That if someone found out who she really was, she was in for a hefty prison term. But what were the chances? What were the chances that someone would know who she was, would recognize her?

_She was featured on Big Shots…_

What were the chances Black Jack would find her in prison, stored away under a different name? What were the chances anyone would find her in there?

_They got Black Jack out…_

Spike leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands, his fingers tugging at his unruly hair. They wouldn't find her. No one would ever find her there.

--

"Just give me the name, Donnelly," Jet said gruffly to the man on his communications screen. "Tell me she's ok and give me the name."

The man onscreen, a dark-skinned older male with a bushy mustache threw him a knowing look. "I'm not telling you the name, Jet," he said to him, not unkindly. "You said it yourself when you called me in. No information, no contact. We have her in custody and that's all I'm telling you."

Jet let a growl curl out of him. "C'mon, I just want to make sure-"

"She's fine," his friend said to him reassuringly. "She's tougher than she looks and she took the sedative like a man. But no names, Jet. And no more contact until the coast is clear. These are the rules _you_ laid out for me."

"I know, I know," Jet barked at him. "I don't need reminding-"

"Then we end the conversation here and now," Donnelly said with a note of finality in his tone. "We come across a problem, I'll be the one to let you know. Otherwise, we never spoke." And with a last sympathetic look, the man cut the communications.

Jet stared at the darkened screen blindly, his jaw clenched. And as he settled limply in the seat, the door of the room slid open and Spike entered silently, pausing by the doorway. Jet glanced over, seeing the leaner bounty hunter clutching the photo album and he suddenly didn't want him there, didn't want to look at him. He averted his gaze, staring out once more and Spike shuffled closer, undoing his jacket and draping it on another chair.

"Went off without a hitch," Spike murmured.

"That right?" Jet countered gruffly. "Then what's with the blood?"

Spike hesitated. "Blood?"

Jet looked at him, eyebrows drawn together. And he motioned to the corner of his own lips wordlessly.

Spike lifted a hand to his mouth and grimaced as he ran his fingertips over the dried fluid. "Yeah, I lied," he revealed. "She wouldn't go down without a fight."

Jet turned away once more, feeling a sudden wave of steely pride for Faye. "I would've expected that of her," he mumbled quietly, his gaze fixing blindly on the silent screen before him.

Spike plopped down into the seat, lifting the photo album onto his lap wearily. And they sat in silence for a long time, staring out at the black night of the Ganymede sky through the Bebop's windows. Stars twinkled brightly and Spike found his eyes drawn to the star he had associated with Faye.

The star seemed somehow dull.

"I didn't give her a chance," Spike said softly. And when Jet looked at him he continued, "She remembered something about Black Jack but I never gave her the chance to tell me."

Jet stared at him, his expression dark and his eyes floated down to the photo album. "What's that you got there?" he asked the leaner bounty hunter, motioning wearily.

Spike lifted the photo album absentmindedly, sitting it up on his knee. "An old photo album of Faye's," he replied and he paused before holding it out to Jet silently.

The older man took it slowly, examining the frayed edges and the dull pink pattern on the book's face. "Well, she was a girl, after all," he murmured as if that was the photo album's excuse, and he sat it down on his own thigh, opening it quietly.

Spike nodded to himself and turned his attention back out toward the Ganymede night, his head beginning to hurt strangely. With a grimace he plopped his head into his palm, slouching sideways against the chair and out of the corner of his eye he watched Jet as the man skimmed the book silently, studying each picture intently but wordlessly. Of all the silences they had ever shared, this one was the only awkward one. And it made Spike's head hurt all the more.

"Damn girl smiled too much," Jet grunted and yet Spike noticed he handled the photo album carefully, his metallic fingers trailing over the face of some pages, his expression blank but somber. Spike reached into his pocket tiredly, fishing out his carton of cigarettes, and pulling one out with an inward sigh. He offered one to Jet and the older man declined, surprisingly, his attention on the album. Putting away the carton, Spike fished for his book of matches and realized he was running out.

"Where's Ed?" he asked as he lit a match, bringing it to his cigarette.

"She went out," Jet replied absentmindedly, staring at a picture. "Took the dog and her Tomato. Gave her some woolongs to get me some liquor."

Spike stared at him. "You gave an underage girl money to get you some liquor," he stated flatly.

"Like they really care anymore, anyway."

Spike turned away, scratching his head at the thought of Ed sauntering into a small liquor shop, Ein cradled in her gangly arms, Tomato perched on her head. And he sighed aloud, realizing that the ship was much too quiet, much too…empty. It had been like this once, before Faye had ended up in their lap and before Ed had stolen her way aboard. But now it was an unnatural quiet. Almost an unholy quiet.

Beside him Jet had paused on a page and wordlessly he held the photo album out to Spike. Spike took it, placing his cigarette to his lips and he sat up as he held the book out in front of him, his eyes narrowing. Jet had opened the book to the picture of the young Faye on Charles Parkerson's back, a wide smile on her face, her green eyes beaming brightly. Charlie Parkerson had been a sweet-looking adolescent, light blond hair and soft blue eyes with a hint of mischief in the depths. This had been the picture Faye had wanted to show him, had been holding open to him and he had a flash of her staring at him intently as she had held the book out to him, her lips moving but no words coming from her mouth. None that he could recall at the moment. He stared at the picture, his cigarette burning away.

"Do you see it?" Jet asked him quietly.

Spike frowned, glancing up at Jet and he suddenly heard Faye's voice in his head, even as Jet asked him almost the identical question.

_"Who do you see in the background?"_

He looked back down, frowning, and in the background was the row of houses lining the incline that had led to Faye's broken home. He searched the houses, looking past Faye's laughing face, past Charlie Parkerson's impish expression and in the darkened window of one of the houses he saw the boy's face, staring out and caught by time in an old picture.

"Jack McCullough," Spike murmured, staring at the young man as Black Jack stared back. "There you are."

"There's the connection, then," Jet said quietly and he slouched in his chair. "I suppose it doesn't do us any good now, and it probably never will since we know who he is now and we know how he got to be where he is today. But I guess it would have given Faye a measure of clarity, to know for sure."

Spike snapped the photo album shut with one hand. "Why are we talking about her like she's dead?" Spike asked him, suddenly bitter. "Geez, she's locked up, Jet. It's not like she's not going to pop back up at one point and demand for us to feed her and give her money to go gamble-"

"Don't do that," Jet growled at him, also clenching up. "I'm not Faye, don't get one of your attitudes with me now that you can't lock horns with her. You know as well as I do that she's not going to get out of there, Spike. Even if I pull more strings, call in more favors, someone is going to find out who she is and they're going to lock her up for good-" He stared at Spike as the leaner bounty hunter suddenly rose from his chair, tossing the photo album onto the floor irritably. "Don't walk away when I'm talking to you, damn it!"

Spike whirled back around. "Why can't you just trust me that this is going to fly?" he demanded of his friend bitterly. "Why can't you, for _once_ since I got back-"

"Because you didn't think it through!" Jet roared at him, effectively bringing him to silence. "Because everything you've been doing since getting back has been about throwing us all around, trying to see which of us sticks to a stupid plan! You used to go out on a whim but you thought things through and you never tried to sacrifice one of us to get the plan to work! Since getting back you throw us everywhere, twist us around to fit, and cram us into some convoluted scheme whenever you can! You're playing with us now the way you used to play with your own life and _I'm tired of it!"_

Spike's jaw clenched as he came to a stop with his ranting, his frame stiff.

The older man rose from the seat angrily, his large frame also rigid. "Did you ever think what would happen if she doesn't get out, Spike? Ever wonder what we actually ended up doing to her?"

"We did it to help her," Spike stated flatly. "Which I did without even wanting to. I never _asked_ for-"

"She's locked up with people she helped put away," Jet said to him firmly, turning to stare at him. He took a step toward Spike and caught his eyes, holding his attention furiously. "We shoved her into prison so that she can share a cell, or a block, with someone that she might have hunted down and traded in for a bounty. So now you tell me that they're not going to recognize her. You tell me that we did it to help her. And _you tell me_ that you actually thought it through when you came up with the plan."

Spike stared at him quietly, silently. And he had thought of it but had pushed it aside, dismissed it instantly. Because he just hadn't wanted to think of it. He averted his eyes as Jet shook his head almost helplessly, but no doubt wearily at him, and the older man glanced at the photo album on the floor, hesitating. Then, with a final shake to his head he brushed past Spike and left the room, his footsteps soft and defeated.

Glancing toward the photo album, Spike paused before floating forward and stooping, picking it up with one hand. Soft, pink and frilly. And with a sigh he turned and also left the room, shutting off the lights on the way out.

--

Ed marched along the boardwalk, one arm swinging as if not reinforced by bone, and Ein clutched in the other. Tomato balanced precariously on her mop of red hair, she pinched the clothespin back onto her nose to fight off the scent of day old fish. But she did like the boardwalk. It was no doubt nearing 22:00 and she had just spent the last half hour passing every liquor shop along the boardwalk, convinced she would find one without a leering shopkeeper or a drug-addicted salesman looking to sell Ein to the nearest Asian market. All around fishermen were either closing up shop or getting ready to go out and she paused before one liquor store, peering in.

A couple of men were whispering by the counter and as they saw her they suddenly sprang apart, the shopkeeper yelling at her. "Get out of here, you dumb kid!"

Ed blinked owlishly, clutching Ein closer to her chest. "But Ed wants to buy from you!" she whined and with a small giggle she hopped into the store, brandishing her money card. "Jet-person gave Ed money!" She giggled some more mischievously, a deep-throated chuckle, removing the clothespin and tossing it aside cheerfully.

"Why you-" the shopkeeper growled and he took up a magazine, going to round the counter.

"Now, Dent, we wouldn't want to be mean to such a pretty little girl, would we?" came a smooth voice from behind and Ed glanced over her shoulder to see the man in the trench coat braced against the doorway, one hand in his pocket comfortably.

"Mr. Black Jack-person…" Ed murmured, staring at him with wide amber eyes. She lifted a hand to Tomato as she backed away a bit, the shopkeeper and his companion looking toward the newcomer.

"And she knows my name," Jack Spade said with a small smile, dropping his free hand from the doorway to stand straight as well. "Two points for you, Miss Ed." He glanced toward the shopkeeper. "Dent, why don't you go fix me a drink? It's been a long day."

The shopkeeper stared at him with wide eyes but quickly nodded and hurried to the back, his companion following quickly.

Black Jack shoved his other hand in his pocket as well, glancing back down at Ed. "I finally get to meet the infamous Radical Edward," he said to her, coming forward another step. Ed remained where she stood, merely observing him silently as he paused before her. And she blinked in surprise as he held out his hand once more to her, bending a bit. "It is a pleasure."

Not seeing a reason to decline, Ed released Tomato and stuck out her hand as well, shaking his politely. "Ed knows a lot about Black Jack-person," she let him know and he smiled cheerfully at her, a sweet smile that lightened his dark eyes. Retracting her hand, she lifted it to Tomato once more, also bending forward a bit as if to whisper to Black Jack in secrecy. "But it took Ed a long time to get the information."

Black Jack's smile widened at her words. "Nonsense," he replied. "An intelligent girl like you? I'm sure you have me all figured out already." And his smile wavered a bit. "Although I will let on that it's rather late for a girl your age to be out alone. And in an area like this."

"Ed has Ein to protect her," Ed piped up with a brilliant smile. And as Black Jack turned a smile on the data dog, she continued, "Jet-person sent Ed to buy some liquor. Ed doesn't know how to shop for liquor, though."

Black Jack nodded that he understood. "Then let me help you with that, my dear," he offered and he turned from her to peruse the selection Dent's shop offered. "Does Jet Black prefer sweet or bitter?"

Ed followed close behind as the man murmured quietly, pausing before several bottles and hesitating. "Ed doesn't know. Jet-person doesn't drink much in front of Ed."

Black Jack nodded once more and reached out to pick up a bottle. "Then I suggest this," he said and he turned to Ed, holding out a bottle of Venus Brandy. "One of my personal favorites, actually." And he paused as she took it with the hand that had held Tomato steady. "Mr. Black having a tough night?"

Ed paused, seeming uncertain as to whether she should answer the question. "Faye-Faye left and now Jet-person is sad," she said to him after a moment.

Black Jack's expression wavered a bit. "I'm sorry?" he asked and as Ed went to repeat herself he held out a hand to stop her. "Faye…left?"

Ed nodded solemnly.

He straightened at her words, his face registering confusion. And then, looking at her once more, he murmured, "It's on the house," concerning the liquor and he tossed a money card onto the counter before whirling and streaking from the shop, his trench coat fluttering behind his tall frame.

Ed stared after him, wordlessly, clutching a just-as-confused Ein, the bottle of brandy and Tomato balanced on her head. Glancing at Ein she shrugged and left the shop as well, making her way back to the Bebop.

--

When she opened her eyes, all she saw was white. White walls, white floors. Sterile white. She blinked blearily, lifting a hand to her forehead and her skin was cold in this white hell. Lifting her head she glanced about and encountered more white walls. Plain white walls. Turning her head in the other direction she found herself staring out through a wall-length sheet of glass into a white corridor and she blinked, uncertain. Across the corridor and in another strange white room visible through another large sheet of glass she caught sight of movement and then a man rolled over on a cot, looking at her and staring.

"Where the hell am I?" she groaned and she realized she had been lying down on her own cot, hard and unyielding.

The man in the other cell continued to stare at her and as she focused on him she suddenly recognized him. He leered at her, rising off his cot as well and drawing closer to his plate of glass shielding. Faye stared at him, wide-eyed, and she suddenly knew where she was, her frame tightening.

"If it isn't Faye Valentine," the man said to her with a cold smile and he placed a hand to the glass.

"Oh my God," Faye growled, suddenly furious. It figured she would be thrown in prison and what were the chances she would be across the hall from one of the very people who had stolen aboard the Bebop to kidnap her for Black Jack?

"Guess what, baby?" he called to her and she looked at him once more, bitterly. He pointed at her with a jabbing finger. "You're going to be my ticket out of here once I let Black Jack know you're here."

Faye clenched her jaw, her hands tightening into fists and angrily she lunged at the glass, pounding on it. "Let me out!" she shouted. "Someone get me the hell _out_ of here!"

The glass resisted her efforts, her fists bouncing off harmlessly and, furiously, she lifted a leg and began to kick as well, stomping at the material angrily, fearfully, ramming her foot against it over and over. "Somebody! Don't ignore me if you're out there, I need to talk to someone! I need to get _out_ of here!"

"They don't care, doll," he said to her with a shake of his head. "They're not going to come for you. They're going to leave you here for when Black Jack comes for you. And you ain't got nowhere to run to," and he burst into loud, raucous laughter at that, his laughter echoing in the white corridor.

Faye swung around, searching the room for something to use against the glass but all she encountered was the cot and a toilet stall behind a slab of cold tile. She examined the cot for a moment, darting toward it and judging its weight. And finding it easy enough to move she slid it angrily across the floor, slamming it against the glass. The glass held, the cot bouncing, and she kicked at the cot, ramming it against the glass again and again, screaming, "Get me out of here! I don't belong here! I can't _stay_ here!"

An ISSP officer appeared at the glass, causing her to pause and he stared at her, stating firmly, "Step away from the partition! Move away from the cot!"

Faye raced to the glass, staring at him. "Please, please, you need to get me out of here. I'm serious, really serious, you need to let me out. There's someone looking for me and he's going to find me here. If I stay here he's going to find me here, c'mon!" And she slammed the side of her fist against the glass as the officer held his stance, his face dark. "Listen to me, you _asshole!_ He's going to come _after_ me, for heaven's sake, get me out of here!"

And the guard lifted his hand to his headset, speaking rapidly, "We have a code yellow, here, repeat code yellow. Subject Maddox Irene. Repeat code yellow, over."

Faye stared at him. "Maddox? What the hell are you talking about? Why can't you just let me out?" she demanded and she slid to the side as the guard took up post beside her cell, facing out into the corridor. "Guy, don't ignore me! I need you to let me out! I don't know how long I've been here but they're going to find me here, I can't be in one place, he'll _find_ me. C'mon, listen to me!" she cried and she kicked at the glass again. _"Listen to me, damn it!"_

From the opposite side of the corridor came racing figures, more guards, and she stopped cold as they rushed her room, one guard jabbing at the wall beside her cell, putting a code into the system. And the glass began to lift with a metallic whirring sound. Faye backed away and then darted backward as the guards bent and swarmed in, throwing her arms up over her face and ramming backward into the wall. "Wait. _Wait-_"

Pairs of hands grabbed her and wrestled her to the floor, pulling her arms from her head and restraining them to the floor. And she shouted furiously, her body bucking in pure rage. "Stop and listen to me, damn it-"

Something jabbed into her neck almost angrily and she felt all her strength leave her body immediately, her face twisting into a grimace. "Aw, crap…" she groaned, her arms suddenly feeling heavy. "Not this shit again…"

Above her a guard said quietly, "Don't worry, Ms. Maddox, when you wake up you'll be good as new."

Faye's head lolled to the side as she lifted her gaze to him, several of the guards now drawing away. "My name…is _Faye,"_ she whispered to him, her vision blurring, and he bent low to hear her. "And you…_assholes…_just signed my _fucking_ death…" And she broke off, blackness swooping in for her.

--


	22. Truckin'

**Truckin':**

Jet turned a bit as the door of the kitchen area slid open, Ed floating in. "Ed," he said to her and he turned his attention back to their empty fridge. "You didn't pick up any food for me while you were out, did ya?"

Ed shook her head wordlessly and plopped the bottle of Venus Brandy on the stove, Ein slowly making his way into the room cheerfully.

Jet glanced at the brandy. "What made you get me brandy?" he asked her with a small frown. "I was thinking something a bit more along the lines of tequila-"

"Black Jack-person gave Ed the brandy," she said to him. And her amber eyes shot to his face as he looked at her.

"What's that you said?"

Ed motioned to the brandy as he picked it up but his attention stayed focused on her. "Ed ran into Black Jack-person in the shop and he bought the liquor for Jet-person," she answered him almost dully. And as if to prove it she pulled forth the money card Jet had originally given her earlier.

Jet took it from her, staring at first it then at the brandy again. "He bought-" He went to say and he cut himself off, not understanding. "Black Jack did-"

Ed merely nodded at him.

The older man stared at the brandy for a moment longer before suddenly slamming it down on the stove once more. And then he bent down to Ed, his eyes hard. "Ok, Ed, you need to tell me everything you told him right now," he advised her.

The door slid open once more and Spike hesitated there, looking from Jet to Ed and back again. And with a hitch to his eyebrow he immediately spun and went to walk back out.

"Get your ass over here, Spike," Jet called to him gruffly, and as Spike flinched, his shoulders squared up around his ears, "Now," he ordered.

Ed remained silent, her arms swinging at her sides absentmindedly.

"I didn't do it this time," Spike let him know. "I'm not going to start getting blamed for everything now that Faye isn't here." And he recoiled a bit, a frown crossing his face as Jet swiped the brandy off the stove and tossed it to him. Catching it easily, he merely examined the brandy in disinterest. "I thought you liked the harder stuff, Jet," he mumbled, staring at the brandy. "This is girly crap-"

"Black Jack just bought me that as a present," Jet let him know.

Spike broke off, his mismatched eyes darting to him, his head bowed to the bottle of brandy. "Come again?"

Jet turned back to Ed. "And Ed here is now going to tell me exactly what they talked about. Aren't you Ed?" he asked the hacker, straightening and placing his hands on his hips. The figure of him was actually imposing, casting Ed in shadow as she looked up at him. And then Spike came around, putting the brandy back on the stove and then leaning his long frame against it. His arms crossed over his chest, and Ed found herself backed against the side of the stove.

"Let's hear it."

Scratching her head of wild red hair, she recounted the entire meeting to them.

Jet glanced at Spike, his jaw clenched thoughtfully, but Spike shrugged. "Sounds like she did a good job," Spike stated. "I mean, he'll know not to come around here looking for her. That or," and his gaze shifted sideways, "he'll be popping up a lot more to see if we're lying."

Jet lifted a hand to his bald head with a growl. _"Or,"_ he grumbled, "he's going to backtrack and find out the truth."

Spike threw him a look. "Backtrack how?" he questioned. "Unless there's a bug riding around in my ass, there's no way he can know what we planned for Faye or where we stashed her. This is something we were expecting, Jet, only it's happening way ahead of schedule-"

A sudden loud chime rang through the ship, causing the three of them to look up in surprise. Jet quickly turned, heading for the doorway. "There's a message coming through communications," he said to Spike and the leaner bounty hunter was already following, casting a last look back at the brandy and at Ed. Together the three of them raced out into the corridor, Jet heading toward the front of the ship, Ed separating and heading toward the common room and her Tomato.

Spike followed Jet as the older man quickly opened up communications and Donnelly's face appeared onscreen, the image flickering. "Jet, you there?"

"I'm here, what's up?" he questioned with a frown and there was tension in his frame as he settled down to speak to the man. Behind him, Spike came to stand, arms crossing over his chest once more.

"We have a situation," the man said to him, his voice as gruff as Jet's. And a moment later the screen went black as the signal died.

--

Faye awakened to darkness. First it had been to blinding white light and now it was to darkness. Groaning quietly she shifted her head a bit, struggling to bring the world into focus once more. And she found herself in what seemed to be a surgical lab. She stared at several metal instruments beside her on a sterile plate fastened to an equally sterile table and she immediately recoiled, eyes widening. She rammed into another table attached to another metal plate of surgical instruments on her other side and whirled across the medical cot she lay on. As she turned she saw the darting figure by the window.

"What the _hell?!"_ she demanded angrily. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a second figure pull up directly beside her. She instantly went to lunge out of the cot but a fist caught her in the temple, effectively bringing stars to her eyes and a muffled gasp to her lips. She hunched over, her bearings thrown, but she did not mistake the sound of a safety being taken off. She froze and slowly lifted her head, grimacing.

But the first figure had the weapon leveled on the second one. "You touch her again and she will be the last thing you touch," he said to him. "I shit you not."

The second shadow also froze, one hand reaching out toward Faye, the second pulled back in another fist. Faye looked from the one with the gun to the one who had just struck her and she remained silent, waiting for she didn't know what.

"Get her the serum and let's get the hell out of here," the one with the gun ordered and he motioned with his weapon, gesturing quickly to Faye. "We're on a tight schedule and I don't know how long the power is going to be out-"

Faye stared at him in confusion, not understanding a single thing being said but she did see the needle that was suddenly produced. She stared at it, her eyes widening once more and then the needle was jabbed into a small vial, beginning to drain fluid. She waited for a moment, silent and slowly drawing her muscles together. All seemed to be fully functional. And with a quick intake of breath she suddenly smacked the underside of the metal plate, sending the instruments flying. The one with the needle cursed angrily, ducking away from the instruments and Faye didn't waste a second in kicking out for the gun. The ball of her foot connected with the weapon, sending it flying as well and her second kick caught the second man head on in the nose, flinging him backward.

"Shit!"

She lunged off the cot, slamming her body into the man with the needle as he whirled back around and she sent him stumbling into the wall with her weight. Not wasting a moment she went for the door several feet away. Darting past the man on the floor, she staggered as he suddenly latched onto her ankle and yanked, and she went down ungracefully. She crashed against a small side table on the way down, the table smashing and producing a sound that she was sure should have awakened the dead and maybe a few guards around. Because she had decided wherever she was, help was around the corner, she just had to alert them. She turned, looking toward the man holding onto her ankle and he was yelling at his associate furiously.

"Hurry up and stick her!"

The second guy came forward, waving the needle and the vial he held. "I didn't fill it up, the bitch-"

"Just stick her already!"

Faye aimed a kick into the man holding her ankle as the second one tossed aside the vial and drained the needle of air. The first one let out a grunt of pain, releasing her and she whirled to climb to her feet. But the second one took hold of her by the hair, immediately yanking, and she was forced backward, crashing back down onto her thigh. "Ow, you _prick!"_ she yelled at him and she swung blindly, glancing off his shoulder. "Get the fuck _off!"_

A moment later the needle jabbed into her arm and she settled momentarily against her will, her eyes squeezing shut in pain. She felt the fluid as it was injected and felt the coldness of it but as he pulled the needle back out she finally swung and caught him in the eye. He growled, the needle falling from his grip and Faye mentally cheered herself on as she swung once more, catching him in the mouth as well. Cursing through a mouthful of bloody teeth, the second man stumbled away and Faye turned her attention back to the first, landing a kick into his side just to spite him.

And with that done she finally rose once more, throwing herself against the door and slamming her hand on the console. Nothing happened, though, and she slammed her hand against it again, furiously. And realizing that it would not open she swung back around and searched the darkness for the weapon one of her captors had dropped. The two men were still stumbling about, clutching at themselves and she quickly dropped to her knees and searched the area where she had seen the weapon fly. Looking frantically, her hand connected with the butt of the weapon and she snatched it up, immediately aiming at the two men but they paid her no mind, groaning and flailing. Turning back to the console she lifted the weapon and fired off two rounds at the console, her jaw clenching. The doors swished open and she did not wait, running out into a dark corridor. She pulled up short directly outside and she came face to face with a wall of windows lining the entire south side of the corridor. She darted to the wall and looked out, frowning, clutching the weapon tightly. Looking down she found that she recognized the area outside from all the times she had come to drop off bounties.

She was still in the prison.

Except something was _very_ wrong. She examined the area and realized a moment later what the problem was. All the lights were out everywhere. Which explained why the doors had malfunctioned. She glanced back over her shoulder and caught sight of movement from the mouth of the hallway, figures revealed by starlight seeping in.

"There she is!" one of the men down the hallway yelled and she lifted the weapon and shot blindly, turning to run in the opposite direction. She had no idea where she was, no idea where she was going. But she was going to be in for a lot of trouble if the power was down in the facility. She had made it to the end of the corridor, reaching a hand out to grab the wall and help her swing around the corner, when her legs suddenly dropped out from under her. She went down in a heap, sliding, and lay there for a moment, feeling weak.

"What-"

And she understood. The fluid in the needle. With a curse, tears almost rising to her eyes, she lifted herself on her hands, her head bowed, and she forced her legs to move. They did so with great resistance, her arms dragging her sideways and to the wall. Reaching it, she slumped against the cold metal, her head falling against it in defeat.

She was going to kill Spike.

She lifted her hand, the one clutching the weapon and waited, hearing the sounds of padded and skidding footsteps. This was where it was going to end, she decided. Either them or her, someone was going to die. And chances were it would be her. She examined the weapon and for a moment her eyes caught on her bracelet, shimmering in the starlight.

A moment after that several men turned the corner and stopped upon seeing her, their own weapons drawn. There went any chance she may have had, she sighed inwardly.

"Stop," came a quiet voice, and her eyes flew to the center of the group as two of the men parted. One last figure came forth, a long coat falling around his tall frame and as he came into the starlight, Black Jack's smile was gentle.

"Faye Valentine," he said to her as she bowed her head wearily upon recognizing him. "I do believe you owe me a date."

--

Jet had resorted to banging the communications console, a page he had taken out of Spike's book. But Donnelly did not reappear onscreen. He turned as Ed came in lugging her Tomato and she was already responding before he could ask her.

"Communications went down. _Power_ went down at the ISSP building," she said to him. "Edward thinks it's an inside job. ISSP building has its own system."

"Which means someone's in there messing with them," Jet growled furiously and he darted away from the console, Spike reaching a hand out after him.

"We don't know what's going on," Spike called after him as the bigger man wound around Ed. "For all we _do_ know-"

And a loud bang came from the back of the ship. Spike broke off, Jet straightening and hesitating. The bang came again, reverberating throughout the ship and Spike glanced at Jet, an eyebrow hitched up.

"What the hell is that sound?" he asked quietly.

"That's the sound of heavy damage," Jet said angrily. He slammed his hand on the console, letting himself out and he raced down the length of the Bebop, heading toward the hangar. A third crash came again, this one decidedly more damage dealing as it came with the sound of breaking metal. With Spike on his tail he skid to a halt outside the hangar, slammed a hand on that console as well and proceeded to curse full out at the scene before him.

The door of the hangar bay was being demolished by the Redtail. The ship hovered in the air, teetering ungracefully as it backed away from the metal doors and even as Jet shouted at it, as if it had two ears with which to hear him, it flew forward at full speed once more. Jet brought his fist down on the console beside the doorway as the Redtail smashed against the hangar doors. Spike grimaced as starlight peeked in through dents the Redtail had created.

"Why is it doing that?" Spike shouted to be heard and a moment later the hangar doors slid open with a great groaning sound and the Redtail took off into the night, vanishing almost instantly.

"Because something really fishy is going on and I have a feeling Faye is at the bottom of it," Jet growled with a sigh. He took hold of Spike by the shoulder and shoved him. "Follow that damn ship. I need to get the Bebop ready to take off-"

"Follow it?" Spike demanded and he spun around to follow Jet with an angry glare as the older man took off down the hallway. "We don't even know-"

And he broke himself off, whirling back around and racing for his Swordfish. There was no point in arguing now, especially not with Jet. At this moment in time, as much as he loathed saying it, he owed Faye. He clambered onto his ship and settled in, bringing the Swordfish to life and opening up his radar to see what ship was in the vicinity. And sure enough, the Redtail's signature was popping up in the corner of his screen. Without another moment he glanced toward the deck afforded the ships to take off and a moment later the Swordfish was in the air, tailing Faye's runaway ship.

--

He held her. He held her the way she hoped Spike would hold her one day. Except she would never say it to him. Unless she was _really_ drunk. Or just in a lousy mood and had already started a yelling match with him, just to surprise him and shut him the hell up.

The Hacker was with him, his narrowed blue eyes surveying the area as they moved. His gestures reminded her a bit of Ed except in a masculine way and he seemed slightly older than her. He spoke Japanese to Black Jack and she had been surprised, in her exhausted state, when he had responded in kind, just as fluently and just as urgently.

"Hayaku, Kazuo," he had murmured to the Hacker as they had all halted beside a locked door, and the Hacker had gotten to work, plugging in his laptop to the system.

She rested in his grasp, one of his arms curled underneath her bent legs, the other holding her close to his chest, and she had floated in and out of a dream. A tiny dream but a dream nonetheless. He smelled like Spike, felt what she had thought Spike would feel like if he had ever held her this way. She opened her eyes, the hallways blurring and there were times when she woke enough to realize that he spoke to her, that he murmured against her ear such soft, gentle words to reassure her. And when he had done so she had fallen into the dream again. A twisted dream? Yes, a twisted dream in which Spike had never come back. A beautiful dream in which Spike had never _gone._ And the mere thought brought her sadness, cradled against this strange man's chest.

_I had a sweet dream…_

"Rainy days never stay anyway," he said against her temple, his breath warm and tinged with the scent of cigarettes. And when she allowed her head to fall back she understood what he meant. It was night out, still, but there was a gentle rain falling. The rain ran down the wall-length windows and she didn't know where she was, only that it felt as if they had been moving for so long.

"My body," she whispered, understanding that she couldn't feel her legs and her arms were so weak. "I can't-"

"It'll go away before you know it," Jack Spade said to her softly and the console beside the door suddenly lit up as power was restored to that patch. He lifted his head to glance at The Hacker and the Asian boy was still working, his brow furrowed in the pale light of his screen. "Kazuo?"

"Betsu ni," the boy mumbled, typing away furiously.

Faye let her head fall back down on Jack's shoulder, her arms cradled in to her chest and for a moment the light caught her bracelet. She stared at it wearily, not understanding why there was suddenly something bothering her about it. But it was there, in the golden band circling her narrow wrist. The dim recollection was there. If she could just remember…

Jack Spade lifted his head at the sound. It had been in the distance but now it came uncomfortably close and he turned, Faye frowning in his grasp to look down the hallway.

_That familiar sound…_

And she suddenly recognized it, felt as if she had been punched in the gut. When was the last time she had heard that beloved sound? The wonderful engine? She looked over Jack's shoulder as he frowned down the hallway and sure enough, shooting down from the sky was her Redtail. She stared in utter disbelief for a moment before suddenly remembering then and there.

_I called you. I called on you…before I dreamt…_

The Redtail came to hover outside the windows at the foot of the hallway and it waited, bobbing gently as if trying to get a peek into the hallway through the large windows.

Jack Spade seemed as confused as she had been a moment before but as she gazed at her ship she had no time to think. Nor did she want it. She turned her head to look up at Jack and he didn't hear her for a second when she spoke. But when she lifted a hand and poked him he glanced down at her in confusion.

"Bang," she whispered. And she hit a button on her bracelet.

One single missile suddenly shot from the Redtail and the group of them had a moment to move before it struck the wall along the floor of the level. A large explosion sounded and glass shattered, Jack instantly whirling away and ducking. Faye cried out as she found herself slipping from his grasp but the moment he had his attention diverted she shoved him away, her hair blowing with angry winds and smoke rising to choke her. The sound of the Redtail was muffled momentarily by the ensuing bitter silence of destruction and Faye scampered along half-dead limbs, rising to her feet and staggering. She fell against the window, straining to see through the smoke and bouncing flames and she caught sight of her Redtail directly outside the window. As if waiting. She lifted her wrist to her mouth and cried, "Let's go!" and the ship reacted as if it had heard her. It came forward and she whirled away, lifting her hands to her ears as it smashed against the windows, shattering them loudly and sending glass shards flying. The smoke was thick, her vision blurred but with the blast of heat was the cold air from the world outside the window and she spun back around, taking a step toward the Redtail as it hovered almost innocently, waiting.

"Faye!" Jack shouted and, glancing over her shoulder she caught a glimpse of him as he rose and moved toward her.

She spared him one last look before clenching down and lunging. Literally lunging. She dove from the level, her body crashing against the side of her ship, her legs finding uncertain footing on one of the missile launchers and she dug her fingers into a wedge in the ship, holding on for dear life. Glancing down quickly she noted that the ground outside was a good four stories below and she turned her head away, bringing her mouth close to her bracelet. "Left," she ordered, grimacing and she looked over her shoulder as she caught sight of movement behind her.

Jack reached the edge of the destroyed level and skid to a halt, lifting a hand to block the winds from his face. Faye stared at him, swallowing against the smoke, and shaking her head at him she allowed the Redtail to whisk her off, away from the ISSP building.

The air was cold, biting. She hunched down against the side of the ship as it flew blindly, merely carrying her away from her threat. The Redtail remained a fair distance from the ground below, its speed rapid enough to leave the building behind but not enough that she would freeze from the amount of wind she took. With a weary sigh Faye murmured, "Open," and the seal popped open for her, coming slightly ajar. She reached out and pulled the seal wide enough to allow her to throw herself in and upon finding herself on the small space of floor she shut the seal behind her.

The cockpit was silent. She sat for a long moment, her adrenaline wasting away and leaving her suddenly limp, her legs feeling as if they were non-existent. She didn't know where the ship was taking her now, only that it flew on and outside the night sky was dark. She remained for another moment, the voice in her head silent for once and after one more long rest she began to pull herself toward her seat, her arms doing most of the work to raise her.

"Always getting shot up with something," she growled as she plopped into the seat like a fish out of water. Her system was on auto and remote, she noticed as she stared blindly. Reaching out she flicked her system online and the Redtail was flooded with lights, the communication panel lighting up as well. She reached to open a channel and her fingertips paused an inch away.

Who would she talk to?

Her hand dropped away and she fell limply against the seat once more in defeat. Who was there to talk to? Who would be there to help her? She was back to Square One, exactly back.

Only now, as much as she hated to admit it, she had a broken heart to boot.

She looked out through the windows at the land as it flew by, feeling the aura of coldness from outside but her ship warmed her. Cared for her. It always had. She sighed once more, her head plopping back and a sudden flare of light forced her sit up once more. Her eyes darted to the side as something streaked past her ship and then, directly in front of her it suddenly exploded, whatever the object had been. Faye gasped, her heart jumping into her mouth and a moment later the force of the explosion hit and the Redtail rocked, shooting sideways. She cursed at the top of her lungs, hunching down and taking control of her ship, attempting to ride out the current that had seized it. The Redtail spun in a complete circle, flying off course and as she was spun she caught sight of the two racers that were on her tail.

"God _damn it!"_ she shouted furiously. She corrected the path of the Redtail, swinging to face ahead once more but even as she was thinking it, even as she slammed on the speed, she felt it deep inside. She wasn't going to be able to outrun those ships.

They were racers. Like Spike's ship. They could overtake her in a moment.

She flew out over barren ground, shooting further up into the air. They were gaining on her, even as she put on more speed they were catching up. To the side she saw the sudden light flash on her console and she immediately swerved, narrowly avoiding another missile as it shot past her right launcher. The missile exploded, throwing her again but this time she turned into the curve, allowing it to carry her away from the explosion. No point fighting something that was going to win anyway. The Redtail swerved to the right, cutting across the two racers and she shot off once more, heading clear up toward the night. She was going to have to take this fight into space and she didn't even know if they would let her make it that far.

Gunfire erupted from behind and she felt her mind shriek at her incoherently. Dive, dodge, feint but for God's sake just _move._ The Redtail turned onto its side, dodging a patter of gunfire as it streaked past and she knew inside she wouldn't be able to pull that again. The Redtail wasn't a racer, it hadn't been made to avoid. Gritting her teeth she pulled a ninety degree angle as she righted the ship, shooting up and the racers swerved for a moment before regrouping and trying to follow. But she had rounded about, bringing the ship down so that it came down behind one of the racers and now she kept it in sight, her expression darkening.

"Take this, you little piece of-"

She shot off two missiles and then immediately opened gunfire on it also, wanting to see some destruction. One missile streaked off as the racer turned left to avoid it but it shot into the path of the second missile and an explosion sounded as missile met destructible metal. One wing blew off completely, spinning off into the night and the racer pitched, dropping off below her. Faye cut the gunfire, watching it fall and beside her the second racer suddenly appeared, cutting into her path. She lifted her head, pulling up on her controls frantically and the racer's wing nearly clipped the side of the Redtail.

"Watch it, asshole!"

The two ships swerved away from each other, Faye redirecting her course and as she fell back into her path the racer pulled up behind.

Faye glanced at her radar anxiously and then looked up as a shadow suddenly blocked off light from the night sky. Something large was crawling across the sky, what appeared to be a ship and she stared for a moment, recognizing it.

"Hey-"

And then the sudden flash of light on her screen was lost to her as a missile slammed into the Redtail from behind. She felt the explosion, felt the direct hit. And the ship was jarred from the sudden force. She was thrown forward, crashing against her console and her frame bounced, slamming backward into her seat once more. Her vision blackened for a small moment, her hand reaching feebly to her head and she lifted it to her eyes as her vision sharpened a moment later. Red fluid glistened on her fingertips and she cursed silently, wiping the blood on her leg before taking hold of her controls once more. Lights were flashing in the cockpit around her and she brought her attention back to the damage at hand, her console blinking erratically. She couldn't pinpoint where exactly the damage was on her ship but she was flying weakly now, smoke trailing behind her. She lifted her eyes once more, looking up into the sky and she recognized the giant ship above, her heart pounding.

"Oh, please, please, please…" She opened a channel immediately, sending the signal out for a response. Behind her, on her console, she saw the signature of the last racer still on her and she swerved sideways, aware of the smoke left behind her from the explosion.

"This is Heavy Metal Queen, what the hell is going on down there?" came the husky voice over her communications suddenly and Faye breathed in relief, her eyes shooting to the console. A woman's face lit her communications screen, her strong face pinched.

"VT," Faye said quickly and she shot upwards, trying to balance out the wavering of her ship.

"Get down, Zeros," the woman snapped as a cat stuck its face into the communication screen as well. "Yeah, this is VT, who're you?' And then, as if recognizing her, her face changed. "Hey, you're Spike's friend. Long time no see-"

"I need your help," Faye cut her off and she grimaced as she felt blood trail down the side of her face. "They're on me and I can't shake him off-"

"What kind of crap have you gotten yourself into now?" VT demanded and above the ship was slowing, coming to a stop in mid-air.

"The really nasty kind," Faye replied and she righted her ship, slowing a bit before spinning it around to face the racer head on. "Look, I need to crash in your ship. As soon as I handle this racer-"

"You're not going to drag your fight onto my turf!" VT ordered angrily.

Faye let loose gunfire, pattering the air and following the racer as it tilted. The gunfire trailed him, missing him narrowly and Faye darted her ship sideways as it let loose with its own gunfire. Slamming her hand on the console she fired off two missiles and then shot off gunfire once more, diving sideways as she did so. The racer spun in a complete circle, dodging one missile beautifully and she was reminded of Spike and the way he handled his Swordfish. But this guy was no Spike and that racer was no Swordfish. The second missile caught the racer in its undercarriage as the ship completed its roll and the bottom of the ship exploded, metal screaming and flying through the air. She shot off more gunfire, aiming into the fiery mess and hoping beyond hope that she would hit something. A moment later the remaining mess of the racer pitched and fell, smoke trailing it and chunks of burning metal falling in the night.

"Good shot," VT said over her communications.

Faye turned her attention back to her communications, swiping away the blood falling down her cheek. "I need to land there. I don't care where you drop me off, just drop me off somewhere where I can get this thing fixed and moving again."

VT hesitated for a long moment, the expression on her face giving away the inner war she seemed to be having with herself. "All right then, get your ass up here. There's a docking station not too far from here, I'll let you off there."

Faye smiled. "You're an angel, VT."

Spike flew over the ISSP building, frowning faintly. A chunk of the southern wall had been destroyed and alarms had gone off, lighting the whole surrounding area red. He brought the Swordfish down a bit, hovering in the air and he debated landing and asking questions. But on his radar the Redtail signature continued on. He had no idea whether Faye was still locked up in the facility or halfway to Calisto on her Redtail. With an inward sigh he opened up communications with the Bebop. "Jet."

The older man's face came up a moment later. "Yeah, Spike. What'd ya find?"

Spike hesitated. "Nothing I can really use. You're going to have to check in with your source because there's a _mess_ here."

Jet stared at him for a moment. "A mess?" he echoed gruffly. And then with a growl, "Damn that woman."

Spike himself could only wonder as to what had transpired. But he bet a thousand woolongs Faye had called her Redtail and had blasted her way out of the prison cell in pure, scorned-woman anger. "Why didn't they confiscate her bracelet?" he asked Jet in a muted tone. "It's a _jail_, for God's sake."

"Because I told Donnelly not to treat her like an inmate, that's why," Jet barked at him. "Did you find the Redtail?"

Spike redirected course, pulling up further into the air and jotting down mental coordinates on the Redtail. "Following it now," he said curtly. And he slammed on the speed, the Swordfish II taking off into the night.

"Is it a really big mess?" Jet asked him.

Spike grinned at him wryly. "Well, let's see. The whole south part of the place is on fire and there's a huge hole in it, too. Maybe I forgot to mention that…"

Jet sighed.

"I'm guessing, other than the medical floors of the place, everything is locked down," Spike continued on, his fingers clenching in his racing gloves. "But she did take out a chunk of the medical areas." And that made him pause for a moment. "Jet…why would she break out of prison from the medical bays? Why not straight from her cell?"

And Jet was thinking the same thing. "What was she doing in the med rooms to begin with?"

Spike went to ask more in confusion when another signal came through. "Hold on, Jet." He switched to audio, allowing the second signal in. "What?"

A very familiar voice came through. "Hey, Spike, this is VT. Been a while there, cowboy."

Spike smiled widely, keeping his eye on the radar. "Hey there, VT. What brings you to call on me?" he asked, changing course a bit to stay on the Redtail's trail.

"Well, I got a friend of yours here. Her ship's fairly busted up and she knocked out on me a bit ago. She wants to be dropped off at a docking station. Calling to see if you wanted to come get her."

"A friend of mine," Spike frowned. And he looked at his radar once more. "VT, what're your coordinates?"

The woman hesitated, murmuring absentmindedly, "Yeah, that friend of yours. The one who hates heavy metal and isn't very delicate." She paused. "Sending coordinates."

Spike smiled as they came up on his screen. "VT, you just made my job easier," he said to her. "Coming to you now."

"Copy that."

--

The Heavy Metal Queen was a sight for sore eyes. Spike lifted up to meet the truck, a smile on his face. The truck was huge compared to his tiny little racer and he did not see Faye's Redtail which probably meant VT had it inside the truck. He had told Jet to look into the destruction at the ISSP building but at the moment nothing had been recovered information-wise. He waited for the truck as the back end came open with a loud clang and in the darkness of the hull he caught sight of the battered Redtail.

"What the hell happened?" Spike asked over communications, swooping in close to the truck.

"She had some racers on her. Took them down pretty quick but they took a chunk out of her ship," VT responded over communications. "Maybe some-" And she broke off suddenly.

Spike turned to his communications, waiting. "VT?"

"Do you see those signatures? On your screen?" VT asked him after a moment, coldness in her tone.

Spike did indeed. "I see them. Friends of yours?"

"No. Are they friends of _yours?"_

Spike felt his stomach grow cold. "No, they definitely aren't," he sighed and he spun his racer around, waiting.

--


	23. A Memory on a Cold Night

A Memory On a Cold Night:

Spike had never maneuvered his racer so smoothly nor so angrily. Two more racers had approached and he took only a moment to size them up. Compared to his Swordfish they were new and sleek. But compared to his Swordfish they were pieces of crap. And he would show them just how crappy. He waited for the racers as they came close and he ignored the communications screen when it lit up. He wasn't in the mood to talk. Revving up his engine like it was a vehicle he bent low and got into stance, feeling the adrenaline climb within him.

This was going to be fun.

"Spike, you damn bounty hunter," VT was growling. "What the hell are you about to do?"

He smiled at her tone and her words. "Have myself a good time," he replied. "Care to join?" And he took off before she could even answer, the sound of the Swordfish drowning out her voice.

Darting forward lithely, he spun his racer and immediately opened fire, pattering the sky with gunfire and setting the night ablaze with color. The racers had obviously been expecting a fight but not one so quickly. They separated from each other and flew sideways, bringing Spike to a stop to wait to see which one would rear up first.

"Spike, get your ass in the truck," VT ordered over communications. "You're going to get yourself killed out there-"

"I need to take at least one down," Spike said to her. "These things are going to chase us clear across the galaxy if I let them go-"

"And the truck can take more damage than your tiny ship so let's go!" VT's voice sounded more than a little aggravated now and that also brought a smile to Spike's face, his eyes darting to the racer on his right as it curled around back toward him.

"Gee, VT, you sound a bit worried for me there," he quipped. "Is it possible your view on bounty hunters has changed-"

"Bounty hunters are scum!" she shouted at him. "Let's go! You have me here like a sitting duck!"

Spike tossed the Swordfish into a spin, shooting off gunfire and one racer took a hit to the wing, wavering off balance. Spike righted his racer and waited, his glance flying to the other racer as it came close to him. The first racer pitched in the night, spinning, and keeping a close eye on the other racer as it flew past him Spike was not ready for the missile that burst from inside the hull of the truck. He spun his racer around as the other ship took a direct hit to the front and the seal of the ship burst off, the metal exploding in a burst of flames and heat. Spike grimaced, his Swordfish rocked by the waves of the explosion and he glanced toward the truck, his eyes focusing in the darkness on the Redtail. But the lights were off in the cockpit although smoke hissed from one of the rocket launchers.

"Thank you, my dear," he murmured to himself and he waited as the second racer pitched out of the sky, falling in a mess of crushed and melted debris. Even in the night it was a wonderful sight. He reared up in the Swordfish and directed it toward the hull of the truck, floating in and hesitating, searching the Redtail. In the faint light he could make out the woman's figure in the cockpit but nothing definitive. He lowered the Swordfish to the floor of the truck and allowed for the truck to hold the ship's weight before shutting off power. Behind him the truck doors began to close and he waited for the front sheathing of the Swordfish to open before he threw open the seal.

He needed a cigarette.

Hopping down he stalked over to the Redtail where it waited and knocked almost politely on Faye's cockpit glass, fishing in his pocket for his box of smokes.

The seal hissed open and he cocked his head, getting a quick glance at Faye as the doors of the hull finally closed and threw them in darkness. Reaching out he flicked a switch on her console and lights came on in the cockpit, Faye's expression dark.

"Wow, Faye, you look like shit," he let her know as he pulled out his cigarettes and fished out one for himself.

She merely stared at him and he frowned as he put the cigarette to his lips, examining her.

"You're bleeding."

She sat against her seat looking haggard, her eyes flat. But she did not stir in the least when he reached out and took hold of her chin, turning her head to the side to observe the broken skin of her scalp and the darkening bruise near her temple. With a shake of his head he released her and then pulled out a cigarette for her, holding it up to her mouth and she allowed him to place it between her lips, holding it wearily as he pulled out his matches.

"So, on a scale of one to ten," he said as he lit his cigarette and then lifted the flame to hers, "How much do you hate me?"

She took a drag as he lit her cigarette, her eyes fluttering closed for a long moment as she relished the intake. And as she exhaled smoke she murmured, "At the moment I can't answer that. I'm too busy killing you over and over in my head."

Spike smiled at that, and she turned her head away from him with a grimace. She didn't want to see his face right then. She didn't want to be reminded ever again. He pulled away from the cockpit, motioning. "Come out. We need to talk to VT."

She didn't move for a moment. "I can't stay here," she whispered. "They're going to come after me now."

Spike waited as she began to stir, her arms moving to grasp at her controls and she used them to heave herself forward to a sitting position, her muscles straining. Lifting a hand to her lips, she took hold of her cigarette and then took hold of the seat to lift her frame off the chair achingly, her face twisting into a wince. And she took one step and faltered, pitching sideways into Spike.

Catching her under the arms he observed her for a moment as she struggled to regain her footing and he waited patiently for her to do so, her hands grasping him by the arms, her head pressed to his shoulder. And as she stood uncertainly she shoved him away, anger flashing across her face for a moment. "Get your hands off me."

Spike's jaw tightened as he recoiled, his lips practically crunching down on his cigarette and breaking the tobacco from the filter. But he remained shut as she straightened, his hands settling on his hips, his lips spitting out the useless cigarette.

With a small exhalation of breath Faye turned away and began to stagger off toward the front. He followed after a moment, bored, but cautious, trailing her as they slipped from one cargo area to another, intent on making their way to VT, pausing only when Faye tossed her own cigarette, halfway smoked.

Up front as they reached the trucker she glanced over her shoulder at them. "Welcome aboard." Her jaw was tight but she managed a smile at Spike as Faye plopped down on the chair beside her with a sigh. "Do I want to know what this whole mess is about or do I just want to get rid of you two as soon as I can?"

Spike patted her seat on the back with a cheerful grin, reaching down to pet Zeros the cat as he wound around his feet. "I can tell you but then I'd have to kill you."

Faye sighed quietly, closing her eyes and falling limply into the chair. She seemed to melt into the seat like water, becoming a silent puddle. Spike glanced at her for a long moment as she turned her head to make herself more comfortable and he was struck once more by the harsh red stain of the blood on her pale skin.

"Faye, you're going to hate me for saying this…" he said to her and she actually managed a snort for him.

"Only for saying what you're about to say, Spike? Is that the only reason I'm going to hate you?"

"I didn't say it was the only reason, Romani. Don't try to bite my head off until I offer it. I'm saying it's one _more_ reason," he snapped at her and he cut himself off, not willing himself to get into another argument with her, especially not then. "I'm going to take a look at that."

She didn't open her eyes. "A look at what?"

Beside them VT glanced over at Faye, sizing her up and when Spike looked at her questioningly she merely motioned to the first aid kit attached to a small compartment on the side of the cab.

"A look at what?" Faye repeated as Spike went to it and her eyes came open, her neck craning as she peeked around the side of the seat. As he opened the kit she groaned. "Oh, hell no. You are not coming within an inch of me, Spike Spiegel."

Spike smiled angelically. "Never thought I'd _ever_ hear you say that to me, Faye," he joked as he fished around and came up with some alcohol pads and a few gauze bandages. He picked up a salve and studied it intently for a moment, squinting.

"Aren't you just full of jokes and snide remarks today," she stated darkly. "If it makes you feel any better at all, the way it makes _me_ feel, our little relationship is over."

VT arched a brow at that.

"But we were getting along so well." He closed up the kit, juggling the items and came back to the seats.

"Before or after you betrayed me, had me thrown in jail for Black Jack to find and then dragged your sorry ass out for me to save it?" she asked faintly. And as he crouched beside her she threw him a disgusted wince, immediately turning her face from him.

"Now, now, let's not be a child about this…"

Closing her eyes once more she settled limply against the chair, allowing him to turn her face toward his and she heard the small sounds of ripping plastic and foil, the brush of his clothes as he moved. She inhaled, grimacing at the sharp scent of alcohol and then she felt the cold application of the alcohol pad against her temple. She winced again, her eyes coming open and he crouched beside her, working intently and silently. She could smell him, his scent of cigarettes, mixed with the alcohol and she found herself hating and loving the combination. Wherever Spike Spiegel went, cigarettes and alcohol were sure to follow, in one form or another.

He smiled faintly as he worked and said, "You're staring at me again."

She quickly averted her eyes but then, with jaw clenched, lifted her gaze right back to continue staring. "I'm memorizing your face," she said to him, feeling as he cleansed the side of her face of the blood and then began to travel upward to her hairline and the broken skin. "It's not going to be as pretty after I bash it in."

"Pretty? Me?"

Beside them VT cleared her throat. "I'd offer to leave the two of you alone to your…strange activities but I'm the one flying this truck."

Faye closed her eyes once more, a small breath coming out in a pained sigh as he dabbed at the blood that had clotted near her hairline. Clearing it he saw the gash of broken skin but it did not bleed anymore. He ran a clean alcohol pad over it and then he uncapped the salve and applied the ointment to it in a generous layer, ignoring her as she wrinkled her nose at the sour scent of it.

"Like I don't smell bad enough," she quipped.

He didn't smell her at all. He capped the ointment once more, set it aside along with the used alcohol pads and opened a gauze bandage, applying it to the wound. "Look at that. Good as new."

Her glare could've killed him where he crouched.

"The _two_ of you are looking beat up," VT retorted. "Been chased for a while?"

Spike shook his head as he cleared the floor of the mess. "Just by one of Faye's secret admirers. A very rich secret admirer but an admirer nonetheless."

"Sounds like fun."

"I need to get my ship fixed," Faye murmured. "Then I'll be out of your hair, VT. Promise."

Spike glanced at her. "Coming back to the ship?" he asked her mutely.

She returned the look, seeming to have been caught unawares by the question. And then she faced forward once more. "No. I'm not going back."

Spike had been expecting that. He gritted his teeth at the mere suggestion of what he felt he needed to do then and he fought himself for a long, silent moment. And then, inhaling and hating himself the entire way he said quietly, "Look, Faye."

She didn't bother actually looking.

"I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear," he said to her slowly, reluctantly. "But I'm sorry."

She turned her head to look up at him in disbelief, her green eyes wide.

Closing his eyes, his eyebrow twitching, he went on. "I'm sorry we got your ass thrown in jail. I'm sorry they knocked you out to do it. I'm almost sorry you had to spend the time you did in jail. I'm a firm believer that you _deserved_ a lot of what happened-"

"Oh, you son of a bitch," she growled at him.

"But I _am_ apologizing for everything," he cut her off, sensing her trembling anger behind his closed eyes. "And if you do want to come back to the Bebop, I won't fight you." He paused. "I'll piss you off. I'm not saying I won't and I'm not saying we'll be the best of friends, but I won't stop you if you want to go back-"

VT's console lit up with lights suddenly, cutting him off in mid-sentence and the truck driver managed a surprised curse before a large explosion rocked the truck. Spike was shoved forward against the console between VT's seat and Faye's seat, crashing against it but finding a firm footing again. Faye was tossed from her seat against the console as well but she hit harder, smacking her side and arm against the metal and then sliding to the floor of the cab, wincing and cursing in surprise.

"What the _fuck?!"_

VT readjusted her seat belt and stared at the console, frowning. "Shit, I got a direct hit," she murmured. And she slammed her fist down on the console, suddenly furious. "This is what I get for helping out you damn bounty hunters!"

Spike glanced at her. "Where are you hit?" he demanded quickly.

"The hull," she replied. And she grimaced. "It's hard to control now, I think they did some serious damage."

Spike nodded. "We're getting off," he replied tersely. "Pilot this, VT. We're going to get them off you." And he leaned over, taking hold of Faye's wrist. She looked up at him as he did so and a cry broke from her as he hauled her to her feet, yanking her behind him as he darted off, back in the direction they had come.

"The Redtail is damaged, I don't know how well it'll-"

"Looks like we'll be finding out now," he said grimly as they raced through the bays, reaching the hull a moment later. He flew past the last door and came to a complete stop, Faye crashing into him from behind.

The front of the hull was intact but was letting loose a loud grinding sound, as if trying to hold together. Toward the back, the end had been blown apart, the large doors swinging open, one on a breaking hinge and the Redtail was sliding slowly, slipping as the hull itself drooped. Spike backed away a step, feeling the cold air and how hard it was to breathe and he knew it was a cross of two things; the high altitude making the air thin and the coldness of the air making his lungs contract. Through the open doors of the hull he caught sight of the heavier ship trailing them and Faye peeked around him, her wrist still caught in his grip, her other hand grasping his arm from behind as she stared.

"Can our luck _really_ be this bad?"

And a moment later a missile was released and slammed into the back end once more, sending the limping door flying off and ripping the floor apart. The Redtail teetered and then dropped out the back end completely, disappearing from view.

With a cry Faye shot past Spike, heading for it and with a shout he yanked her back again, twisting her wrist in his grip. She let out a furious shout as he brought her to one knee, to avoid having him break her wrist and she shrieked at him, raging. "That's my _ship!_ I _need_ it-"

And he shouted right back angrily, shaking her. "You're going to get yourself killed if you go out toward the edge!" He worried his words were being drowned out but the glare on her face led him to believe she was hearing every word he shouted at her. "Forget the Redtail, Faye, it's gone! We need to get off this ship!"

_"I can't!"_ she cried. "I can't get off this damn ship, Spike!" And surprise crossed her face as he began to move, pulling her to her feet and then yanking her behind him. The Swordfish was sliding now as well but it was open for them and he shoved Faye on ahead of him, toward the ship.

"Go, go!"

Faye didn't need to be told twice. She threw herself at the Swordfish, jumping up to get a grip on the side of the ship to haul herself up and behind her she heard Spike say impatiently, "This is the only time I'm going to do this!" She didn't get the chance to turn to him in question. A moment later she felt his hands on her rear and he pushed her up, helping her onto the Swordfish. She had a moment to feel redness creep into her cheeks but then as she rose to her full height on his ship he was pulling himself up easily, clambering up.

"Don't act like you didn't like it!" she shouted at him to cover up her blush, hopping into the open cockpit.

Spike hopped down with her, quickly sealing the ship closed and flinging the console on. "Yeah, maybe a little," he said with a small, sly smile as he faced the console and the front of the Swordfish closed over, sealing them in completely.

Faye crouched beside him in the cockpit as he seated himself and, thinking twice he strapped himself in, taking hold of his controls. She glanced up at him as he murmured, "I have _no_ idea how we're going to do this…" He examined the console and then straightened and looked over his shoulder, obviously gauging the distance between the ship and the hull walls.

She lifted a hand and placed it on his wrist. "Just get us the hell out of here," she said to him and he glanced down at her for a moment in silence.

Then with a nod he lit up the engine and spun the ship around, grimacing as the wings scraped against the sides of the hull. It was tricky, maneuvering the ship to turn, metal whining, but as he did so he backed the ship toward the front, leaving himself enough room to take off. Faye pulled her hand back, her bracelet making a small sound against her skin and she looked down at it, struck stupid for a moment at not having thought of it before. Bowing her head and closing her eyes she tapped a button on the bracelet and prayed as Spike slammed on the speed and shot out of the hull, barely missing the other ship that followed.

The Swordfish's sudden departure sent the other ship diving sideways to get out of the way and Spike growled under his breath as he spun his racer around in midair, flicking a switch.

Faye heard the familiar grinding sound as the Swordfish pulled out its primary weapon, the plasma cannon shifting into place. Beside her Spike's jaw was clenched and he did not look the least bit happy as he readied the weapon.

Before them the other ship was righting itself, coming to hover and even as it turned, shooting off gunfire, Spike let loose a burst that painted the night a silver blue. The energy struck the other ship head on, cracking a hole just from the strength of the burst alone. And then there was an explosion and the wings of the ship burst apart, flying through the air.

"Oh…crap-" Spike murmured and even as he spoke he flung the Swordfish into a spin, driving the ship to get out of the way as a shattered wing flew toward them. Faye slid as the ship rolled and her body slammed against the wall, her hands reaching out to grab onto something. _Anything_. And then along the belly of the Swordfish something stabbed angrily into the ship, missing her head by a foot and she stared in disbelief as she understood what it was.

_"Spike!"_

He didn't answer her and a moment later she knew why. He was trying to even out the Swordfish because they were falling. Plummeting. The wing that had been blown off had crashed into the underside of the Swordfish and now protruded through the metal of the floor like an angry shark fin.

"Hey, Faye," he called back to her through gritting teeth.

She looked up from the floor of the Swordfish, her green eyes wide.

"Just thought I'd let you know that we're going to crash."

She felt anger surge through her at his words. "Yeah, _thanks_ for that-" And a gasp broke from her lips as she felt him speed up the Swordfish, her body shooting backward at the sudden change in velocity. She crashed against the back, her head banging against the wall and she couldn't make out what he was aiming to do. Only that their speed had increased.

"Spike-"

Again he didn't reply and she shoved herself to her feet and stumbled to him, bypassing the angry chunk of metal stabbing into the floor. She reached him and leaned over his shoulder, staring. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm trying to even us out so we don't crash headfirst!" he shouted to her and she understood that even though they were falling he was trying to bring the nose of the Swordfish up. If they were lucky they wouldn't crash but slide. She looked out over the side of the cockpit and saw the ground below, her heart jumping into her throat.

"Remind me to thank you later for ruining my life," she said to him.

"Aww, Faye, you don't have to thank me for that," he said to her with an easy smile, his eyes focused on their descent. But he motioned to her. "Hold on to something, the impact is going to throw us."

She looked about quickly, not wanting to see the ground as it began to reach up for them but she didn't see anything she could really hold onto. Small ledges in the walls due to design and the large piece of stabbing metal behind. Crouching once more she decided to wrap her arms around the back of Spike's seat, ducking her head against it and she had to give it to Spike.

The man feared nothing.

She heard him take a quick breath and then, an eternity later that could only have really lasted ten seconds, there was a strong jarring crash, one that shook her and effectively snapped her grip clean. She found herself thrown backward, feeling her stomach flip and then she slammed into the metal fin behind her roughly, her head cracking against it. A moment later darkness swept in and she fell away numbly.

* * *

"Faye."

There was a hand on her temple, fingertips, and she murmured something, something she herself didn't understand even though it had been her to say it. Her eyes flickered and there was a heavy dust in the air, sand, her eyes tearing.

"Hey, you with me?"

She reached a hand up to her temple as pain flashed behind her closed eyes and she encountered skin there, fingers. Her fingertips slid across a slick fluid and she knew what it was even before she opened her eyes to see it. Groaning already, she opened her eyes and Spike's upside down face came into view above her, his dark eyes studying her intently. As she forced herself to focus on him he smiled a genuine smile, his hand in her peripheral also stained with blood. She turned her head to look at it and grimaced, already knowing where it was from.

"Yeah, you reopened the head wound," he let her know.

She hissed a bit, lifting her head and pain shot through her. "I'm going to have some severe brain damage," she whispered and he chuckled behind her as she sat up slowly, his hand on her back to help her to a sitting position.

"You and your hard head? I doubt it," he said. And he rose, circling about to stand beside her as she bowed her head in pain. Her hand hovered beside her head, her vision swimming but as she glanced around she saw the remains of the Swordfish several feet away.

"Oh my God."

Spike glanced at it, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he stared for a long silent moment. And then, with a sigh he turned back to her. "As long as we're alive, I don't care," he said to her.

She glanced up at him, her face drawn. "That's such bullshit," she said to him.

He sighed once more. "Yeah, it is." And he kicked a rock beside his foot, sending it to crack against one of the broken wings of the Swordfish II.

They sat in what seemed to be out in the middle of nowhere, the darkness hanging heavily around them. The Swordfish II was together if not intact, one wing hanging by a sheet of metal, the other lying several feet to their right. There was sand everywhere and wouldn't it just be their luck to have landed in a desert? She looked at Spike once more as he slipped his hands into his pockets and she caught the dark fluid in his own hair, almost invisible in the light they had.

"You hit, too?"

He glanced back down at her. And then he lifted a hand to the wet spot, close to the crown of his head. "Yeah, my belt snapped and I got tossed."

Faye nodded. "Welcome to the club."

He smiled at that. She didn't find anything funny about it but if that was how he coped then she would allow him that. And he motioned for her to get up. "I have no first aid in the ship and we can't use it anymore. This thing is grounded whether we want it to be or not. But we need to get to VT and make sure she's ok."

Faye looked at him. "We don't even know where she is. Are the communications in your ship-"

"Dead," he cut her off. "But I know which way VT went." And he lifted his hand and pointed toward the sky, following a line of curling smoke that dispersed close to the ground. "She went down somewhere over there. It's probably not that far a walk."

Faye groaned at that, clenching her eyes shut against the pain in her head. "This is just one more reason for her to hate us."

"To hate _you,_" Spike corrected and as Faye threw him a glare, "I'm not the one who dragged her into this mess."

"Don't even start that crap with me, Spike. You know better than I do that this whole _thing_ is your fault-" And she cut off as pain streaked through her head, hunching over to ride out the shocks.

He waited for her, his jaw tight as she inhaled once the wave passed. "I don't think you should get angry right now," he advised her. "You'll only worsen it." And he motioned once more for her to rise. "C'mon, I promise not to pick a fight if you can promise to move a bit."

She debated that for a long moment, a glare on her face. And with a sigh she finally rose, allowing him to help her up. "Move a bit," she mumbled as she struggled for a firm footing. "I'm not promising anything. I'm about ready to keel over."

He smiled at her and then turned, his hands moving to find their way back into his pockets. "Well, let's see how far you make it before you-"

And she had taken all of one step when her vision blackened. A moment later she found herself back on the ground, her arms quivering to hold her up, pain shooting through her head and leaving afterimages in red behind her eyes.

"Hey, whoa-"

She grimaced as Spike crouched beside her, his face worried as he peered at her. With a chuckle she said, "I think I may have hit my head one too many times." And she lifted a hand to her forehead, wanting to muffle the pain that seared her skull furiously.

"I guess that promise just went flying out the window," he murmured to her. And he sighed, glancing back over to where the smoke was vanishing in the distance. After a moment of silent contemplation he turned back to her and said, "Ok."

She frowned at that.

"You are going to owe me _big."_ He said to her and he unbuttoned his suit jacket, taking it off and, to her surprise draping it over her shoulders. She stared at him, her eyes widening as he loosened the tie around his neck and then, as she watched him he put his back to her, still crouching. "Give me your hands."

She had no idea where she wanted him to put her hands. Lifting one she held it out beside him for him to see it and he grasped it, bending it to wind around his neck.

"The other one, too."

And she understood as he slid closer to her, hunched over and reaching behind him for her other hand. As she gave it he slipped that one over his other shoulder and then met her hands together at his collar.

"Get a grip."

She did so, her eyes wide at the thought that this was Spike. And he tipped forward a bit, dragging her with him and pulling her frame against his back. His arms curled behind him and she muffled the surprised squeak as he wound his arms under her thighs. And then, with a deep breath he rose to his feet, adjusting her on his back and glancing toward her.

"Ok?"

She nodded at him blindly. "Ok."

He nodded also and, carrying her, started off, his head lifting to the sky once more. The smoke was just about gone but he knew where it had gone, where VT had crashed and he began to head that way, his grip strong around her thighs.

Faye hesitated, staring at the back of his neck, at the tie that peeked out from under the collar. And maybe it was Spike trying to be kind, trying to be apologetic. A large chunk of what had happened had indeed been his fault but she couldn't blame him entirely. Black Jack was her fault, somehow. Not his. She dropped her eyes to his shoulder, to the faded yellow color of it, and she could smell him, his distinct scent from it. From the jacket along her own shoulders.

Whitney had once carried her like this, one cold night so many years before when she had run away from the past. From the present she hadn't wanted. Whitney had been this calm and this gentle. She closed her eyes, remembering him and remembering that time. And then, with a silent sigh, she bowed her head and pressed it to his shoulder, against the back of his neck wearily. She felt him turn his head a bit to glance her way but when she didn't say anything he turned his head back around and kept walking, his arms tightening under her once more.

She felt at home.

As she began to fall away once more into fitful sleep she heard him murmur, "When we get to VT it'll be your turn to carry me." And she smiled faintly, taking the smile into the darkness.


	24. My Funny Valentine

**Author's Note: **Been a while, I know. If you guys want, and you get a chance, I updated my profile so check that out for some stuff going on concerning this fic, another fic I have in progress and soundtracks. Hope you enjoy! :)

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**Chapter Twenty-Three: My Funny Valentine:**

She stared up at the metal ceiling of the Bebop and her head hurt. The fan, spinning noiselessly. The bright light. And the uncomfortable couch underneath her frame. She hadn't expected to ever see the ship again, the Bebop. Hadn't expected to have the chance to stretch out and listen to the silence of the trawler, the low thrum of the heat that did nothing to warm her. It was much too quiet here. Or maybe it was much too quiet in her head. She was giving herself the headache, trying to understand what she really didn't want to understand. She lifted her hand slowly, bringing it to her temple and she felt the tiny bruise left over from the punch she had received to the head. She grimaced, exhaling wearily and closing her eyes. Her fingers rubbed the spot over and over painfully, her head throbbing gently.

_What am I doing back here?_

From the hallway came the soft sound of footsteps and she waited a long moment to open her eyes. When she did Spike stood beside her head and he held a bottle of brandy in one hand, two shot glasses in the other. He gazed at her wordlessly and when she lifted her eyes to him his expression did not waver. He held what she called _The Spike Expression,_ which was a blank look with a bit of somber thrown in.

"You have the look on your face," she murmured and she closed her eyes once more, her fingertips rubbing the sore spot of her temple.

"I always have the look on my face," he replied to that and he sat down on the small table, setting the two shot glasses aside and turning his attention to the brandy.

She opened her eyes once more and looked at him as he examined the brandy bottle curiously. And she watched him as he broke the seal and opened it. Wordlessly he filled the two shot glasses and set the brandy aside. Her eyes slid to the shot glasses and, noting that he had caught her staring he picked one up and held it out to her. She stared at it for a moment then at him and with a sigh she rose to a sitting position, taking it from him. He gazed at her for a moment as she merely held it instead of drinking it, turning his attention to the other glass a moment later. And then he lifted the other shot into his hand and turned back to look at her. "I'm aware brandy is not taken in shots but we have no clean cups and I'm not doing dishes."

She was staring at her drink hard enough to burn a hole in it. And then, with no remorse and in the flattest tone she could manage, she whispered, "I hate you, Spike."

The corner of Spike's lips tightened, almost into a heavy smile and he replied, "I'll drink to that." And he tossed his head back and downed the shot.

She watched him, as he threw back the shot, as he dismissed her words the way he always did. In her hand the shot glass felt almost alien and she found herself leaning forward, reaching by him and setting the shot glass down beside him. "I'm not going to drink to you, Spike," she said to him quietly. "From now on, I'm not going to do anything to you, _for_ you." She shook her head, gazing at the shot glass and feeling his eyes on hers as she did so. And she gingerly rose, feeling older than her old age as it was. "Not anymore."

He watched her as she quietly padded away a step before dropping his eyes to the empty shot glass in his hand. "We did it for you," he called to her and she came to a stop, her shoulders limp. "The whole thing, the whole setup. We did it…_I_ did it."

She didn't turn to face him as he spoke, almost seemed as if she didn't acknowledge him.

"I was trying to help you."

She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to hear that, least of all. "Why?" she demanded and she whirled around to face him, her face pinched. "Why, Spike? You never have before. Why does it matter now?"

He didn't lift his head, didn't answer her question.

She came back to him, her hands clenched at her side. She wanted to hit him again. And she wanted to make hurt. Hurt the way she hurt. Instead she swiped the shot into her hand, throwing her head back. He looked up at her, eyes wide as she took the shot easily, downed it in one gulp. And angrily she slammed the shot glass down beside him, causing him to inch back a bit. "There. Are you happy now, Spike? Do you feel better knowing that you can drag me around on a string?" And he stared at her with confused eyes, watching her as she motioned. "Does it make you feel good to know that any which way you pull, I'll _stumble_ on after you? Because you haven't changed, Spike. You'll never _change."_

He recoiled a bit as she leaned over, wound an arm around him to snatch up the brandy and retrieved it. "Faye, I don't think-"

She already had it to her mouth and she took a huge swallow, her throat working.

Spike resigned himself to wait until she had taken another two large swallows of the brandy. And then as she went for another swallow he dove to his feet and snatched it clear out of her hand. She immediately reached for it angrily, spilling a bit as he yanked it from her mouth and he literally stuck a hand in her face, shoving her backward and away.

"Give me the damn-" she snarled, anger beginning to turn to fury.

"Shut up already," he ordered her grimly, holding out a hand to her to keep her at bay as she regained her composure. "It's going to hit you hard because you haven't eaten in two fucking days. Now take a damn seat and let's talk." And he didn't bother to see if she did so. He merely set aside the brandy and sat his rear back down on the metal table, waiting for her.

She hesitated, hands opening and closing into fists at her sides. She felt the anger in her face, a deep red blushing her cheeks. "I don't want to talk," she grumbled but she sat down anyway, crossing her arms over chest and turning her face away from him in aggravation.

He sighed inwardly and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Look, Faye. Shit happens and people do some _stupid_ things-"

"I know where this fucking conversation is going, Spike," she snapped at him, eyes sliding shut as she refused to look at him. "You're going to try to make yourself feel better, go on about how much you've changed, blah, blah, blah. But you haven't, Spike. You haven't changed. So let's just skip the whole conversation-"

"God, do you _ever_ shut up?" he demanded, looking as if he too were about to lose his temper. "I can't get a sentence out without you throwing in your own two cents!"

"Better than letting you talk and getting someone killed," she sniped cattily as she swung her head back around to glare at him. She pursed her lips, tasting the brandy still and her chest was warm. Unbearably warm. She let her mind wander for a second, rethinking the idea of taking hold of the brandy and taking a few more drinks. Two days? She grimaced faintly knowing right then and there just _how_ hard that brandy was about to hit.

"This is why we don't _fucking_ get along," Spike snarled at her. The tone of his voice brought her attention back to him, her eyes widening. "Because people can't even apologize around you without you biting their head off-"

"Oh, shut up," she snapped at him haughtily, her expression twisting. "Look at the two, Spike, and tell me which side here actually should have the _right_ to speak. I don't go out of my way to get you killed. In fact, I don't go out of my way to get you involved in anything. You're the one who drags us around behind like little puppy dogs. You're the one who drags _me_ around like a little puppy dog. And then you have the nerve to turn around and let me know that you don't even like me, that you can't _stand_ me." She leaned forward, arms still crossed over her chest, her face pinched.

Spike stared at her for a long, silent moment and as she glared right back he took the brandy bottle into his hand and took a large gulp of it himself, swallowing angrily. She waited for him, feeling the heat in her face and she had half a mind to lift her hand to her cheek and feel it, to make sure she actually was hot. Maybe it was her imagination. "Are you done?" she demanded of him absentmindedly, her green eyes darting to the brandy as he took another swallow and then slammed it down. She suddenly needed a cigarette to go with this alcoholic buzz.

"Damn it, Faye," he said to her as if he himself had meant to say something else but was biding his time. He swiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, grumbling, "All you ever do is complain." And he dropped his head into his hand, hunching forward. "I should've eaten something earlier…"

Faye's expression dropped into disbelief before lighting with interest. "So, let me get this straight. You give me pointers about not drinking so much because I've gone and starved myself for two days and here you haven't eaten all day either?" And when he didn't reply only to glare at her, she threw her hands into the air impatiently. "This is great."

Spike sighed loudly and he lifted his head, his cheeks only now flushing a scarlet red. Faye doubted it was from embarrassment. "If you would just please, _shut up_ for a second I can regroup here and insult you the way I meant to insult you from the beginning. I can't think with you _screeching_ the way you do-"

_"I do not screech!"_ she shrieked at him. And she lifted her hand to her head as the world pulsed. She looked down immediately, not wanting him to know that she was feeling the alcohol. And especially not that she was feeling it as much as she actually was. She inhaled deeply, hoping to lessen the flush that was quite evident in her cheeks even to her, and she fanned herself absentmindedly, her lips parting into a soft o as she breathed to cool herself. She needed a cigarette desperately, _horribly,_ just one. "Why the hell is it so hot in here?"

"I think it's the alcohol," he mumbled and he straightened, also inhaling. "Whatever. Where was I?" he asked her and she didn't think she had heard incorrectly when she heard him slur his words a tiny bit. "Oh, yeah, you piss me off and don't listen."

"How about you piss _me_ off and don't listen?" she replied to that angrily. "Do you have any cigarettes or not?"

He paused, eyes darting toward her in confusion. "What? When did you ask the first time?"

"I asked when we first started this conversation!" she shouted at him. And as they both stared at each other in thought, she frowned gently. "Didn't I?"

"No, you fucking didn't!"

"Yes, I did!" she raged. "You're just proving my point when I say that you piss me off and don't _listen!"_ She swiped at the bottle of brandy but, even feeling the intoxication, he proved faster than her. Shoving her hand away he lifted it up himself and took another large swallow of it, scooting away from her as she reached for it again. "C'mon, you stupid lunkhead!"

"Bite me, Faye," he growled as he set the brandy down just out of her reach. "Or better yet, maybe I shouldn't say that out loud. I know you're dying to take a bite out of me." And he leaned back on the table, resting his lean frame on his hands as he relaxed, long legs splayed limply.

Her green eyes narrowed, jaw clenching. The one thing she loved and hated about alcohol was how easily it loosened tongues. And hers was no different. She allowed her eyes to rake up his frame shamelessly, from his clunky boots to his head of wild dark hair. "You're so full of yourself, Spike," she hissed, suddenly uncertain whether she loved the look of him or hated it with all her might. She turned her head away with a sigh after not coming to a clear decision. "Yeah, I'd take a bite out of you. If you'd clean up. And maybe earn a decent woolong." Crossing her legs once more, she leaned back into the couch, blinking at the common room as if encountering a new room entirely. And she was quite aware then of his eyes on her, studying her just as intently as she'd been him but feigning nonchalance.

She had always loved attention. She loved feeling a man's eyes on her. Every woman loved it, how could they not? Especially when it was the eyes of someone they desired. It merely returned the desire, in her opinion. She lifted her arms, draping them across the back of the couch, aware that it pushed her ample chest out. And she gave herself a mental high five as his eyes darted to her breasts.

But a moment later he merely dropped his gaze away, a sigh leaving him as he bowed his head.

Also sighing wearily then, she looked around, aware that the room pulsed but refusing to care. The alcoholic buzz was perfect then, in this beginning stage. She was warm and free of reason which was how she always tried to live her life. Her eyes settled on the bottle of brandy, a small nagging blossoming in the back of her head. "Whose bottle is that anyway? Jet hates that girly shit."

Spike turned his head toward the bottle, observing it silently. Then he looked at her once more and he stared at her for a nice, long moment, a shady smile slowly twisting his lips.

She didn't like that smile one bit.

"Jack Spade got it for Jet," he let her know. And as she snapped her head to look at him he shrugged laconically, looking downright lazy. "Probably a thank you gift for putting you exactly where he could find you."

Faye's face darkened, her expression suddenly blacker than the darkest night he had ever encountered. "That's a low blow, Spike, and you're lucky I'm buzzed or I would hit you." And her eyes suddenly glittered maliciously as she remembered right then and there. "Which reminds me, cowboy. I _do_ believe you owe me an answer to a question."

His eyes darted to hers once more, his eyelids heavy, his jaw clenching.

Understanding that she had him in the palm of her hand, she instead dropped her head back nonchalantly, quite pleased with herself. With the world so warm and hazy, this had to be the best feeling in the world. "I'll hold off," she let him know sweetly. "Can't have the relationship end right here and now." And she reached out delicately, fingers splaying for the bottle of brandy. After a moment Spike picked it up and handed it to her, his eyes thoughtful. "Jack Spade, huh?" she purred.

"Yup."

Faye nodded to herself, reading the label. The writing on the label swam slightly and she inhaled quickly, attempting to focus. "He always did have good taste," she murmured. And her eyes twinkled. "In everything."

Spike's expression withered. "Didn't you just finish saying that was girly shit?"

"See, Spike," she continued on, speaking right over him. "You can learn from him. Fix yourself up, get an attitude change. You'd be a sexy guy." And she blushed as she slurred the word sexy. She maintained her gaze on the label, hoping he hadn't caught her slight blunder.

"Sexy," Spike mumbled with a small lazy bow of his head. "I don't need to be sexy, Faye. I already _am_ sexy."

Faye sighed at that, shaking her head. And she rose to her feet quite carefully, trying to retain her balance as the world spun briefly around her. "Yeah, you're sexy, Spike. But you're not sexier than me." And she took a step to circle past him, stumbling over his foot and staggering. "I…am _damn_ sexy."

"Yeah, that was really sexy right there…"

"Why do we keep using that word, sexy?" Faye questioned and she shook the bottle of brandy at him, watching his eyes as it took an abnormally long time for his gaze to go to it. "The more I use the word, the less it seems to make sense."

"Where are you taking our alcohol?"

She paused halfway in the direction of her quarters. And she looked at the brandy in her grip, feeling as if it took her a long time to actually look down at it as well. "I'm…taking it to my bedroom," she replied slowly. And she glanced at him over her shoulder, the question on her lips, whispering in her mind over and over. "Would you like to come, too?" she asked him softly, her green eyes lifting to meet his dark ones and catching there.

He returned the stare at her for a long silent moment, his mismatched eyes gazing at her as if he wanted to say something. As if he didn't _know_ what to say.

The abruptness of her question came to weigh on her then, almost crashing through her pink haze. And she suddenly wanted to get away from the room, from the question she had unknowingly just turned into an offer.

And he murmured, "Sure."

She looked at him once more, her lips parting, her frame heaving at the sudden incredible heat. And she went to retort, to say something but she couldn't think of one thing to say at that moment. All snappy remarks and jokes flew from her, leaving her silent and dumb.

Spike lifted his head as he stood up, his hands shoving into his pockets. And he smiled faintly at her, as if he could read her thoughts. As if he had always been able to read her thoughts.

The sudden thought repulsed her, scared her. With a slight shake of her head, grimacing, Faye held out the bottle to him, allowing him to take it as he frowned at her. "No," she whispered, her eyes shifting down to the bottle as he looked at her once more. And she lifted a hand to her forehead, wincing and wishing she could think clearly. "I don't want you there."

"In your room?" he asked her, his brows drawing in, fingers seeming to tighten around the bottle of brandy.

"In my life," she replied. And she whirled and stormed off, knowing the direction where her room resided but somehow feeling as if it was much too far away. She stomped down the hallway, sweat slowly beginning to break out on her forehead and she fought the hallway as it pulsed, spun. The warm hazy feeling was gone, replaced by an unnatural and uncomfortable heat. She reached out, her palm coming down on a blissfully cold wall and she paused to catch her breath, groaning faintly. How had she been expected to hold a decent conversation intoxicated? Suddenly angry, because it was _always_ Spike's fault, _everything_ was Spike's fault, she shouted back toward him where he still stood clutching the bottle of brandy. "Damn it, why do you _do_ this?!"

He stared at her from the foot of the hallway and even turned to glance over his shoulder, searching the common room he still stood in. Finding no one other than himself he turned back around and looked at her in disbelief. "Me?" he uttered.

Not even thinking anymore Faye reached down toward her foot and encountered bare feet. She needed to throw something and why couldn't she have had a boot on at that moment? It would have been perfect. Screeching, she ripped her headband out of her hair and flung it at him, the gesture throwing her off balance and forcing her to stagger against the wall. "Why couldn't you stay _dead?_ Why couldn't you stay _gone?!"_ she cried and even as she screamed it, she felt deep inside how wrong it felt to say it, to _feel_ it.

Spike didn't even flinch as the headband flew by his shoulder. He did glance at it as it sailed by though, his cheeks tinged red from the alcohol. He turned to look at her once more, lips parted, the headband bouncing and sliding across the common room floor behind his tall frame. "You just threw a headband at me."

And she also pulled off her bracelet and flung that as well, shouting incoherently. That one had better aim and Spike dodged it as it fell around his kneecap and then clattered to the floor.

"Always! Always, always, _always!_" She cried. She lifted a hand to her cheek, grimacing, and then anger came up once more and she shoved away the dizziness, the pulsating hallway as it spun and tilted. She just wanted him to hurt. Hurt the way she always hurt around him when he looked _through_ her instead of _at_ her. "You come back here as if you own this place! As if you have every right to be back here! And you're the one! You're the one who makes me not care, who makes me do stupid things! The way I used to! The way I used to do before you died on me! Before I _cried-"_ And she cut herself off, shaking her head, wishing her mouth to stop. To just _stop_ before she told him everything_._

Spike stood silently, his expression somber, sorrowful, the brandy forgotten in his grip.

Faye lifted her hand to her forehead once more, bowing her head and feeling her fingers slide across a fine sweat that had broken out on her suddenly cold skin. "Before I…" And she shook her head, feeling him when he came close silently, hearing the swishing of the brandy in the bottle almost as if it was amplified. Sighing in defeat, she shook her head once more, not wanting to cry because intoxicated people were stupid when they cried. They said stupid things and _did_ stupid things and she wasn't going to be one of those. She hesitated, shutting her eyes, squeezing them tightly as she slumped against the cold wall at her back. And she whispered to him faintly as he came to rest on the wall beside her, "I cried so much for you…"

He exhaled quietly and she didn't have to look at him to know his head was bowed as well, to recognize the expression on his face. She knew it like the back of her hand because she had _dreamed_ of his face, had seen it behind her closed eyelids all those nights after he had died, after he hadn't come back.

"You make me hurt, Spike," she murmured to him and she lifted both hands to her head, to shove back her free hair as her bangs jumped into her face. She questioned, momentarily, why her hair felt strange, where her headband had gone. But it didn't matter at that point. What mattered was telling him. Telling him everything.

No, not everything. Damn it, she hated being drunk. She grasped her hair tightly as if meaning to pull it out and she breathed to orient herself, to get her thoughts to run normally again. To stall while she did so.

But he gave her the time instead, his voice low. "I've made a lot of people cry in my life, Faye," he said quietly.

She pulled even harder on the hair she held. Why did he _do_ that? Why did he always make it seem so insignificant? "No, damn it!" she shouted at him, releasing her hair to look at him, to clench her hands into fists at her sides. "Don't do that! Don't putdown what I _feel!_ You always do that, make me feel like I'm nothing because I'm not _Julia!"_

He looked at her quickly, his jaw already clenching and Faye wanted that. Right there, that was what she wanted, for him to show some kind of emotion instead of always leaving it to her and then shrugging it off.

"I _understand,_ Spike! I _understand_ that what I feel means absolutely nothing to you. I _know_ that!" she cried, his voice blurred and she didn't want it to be tears that blocked his image from coming into focus. She needed it to be the alcohol. "But you're not the only one who hurts! You're _not!"_

And shaking her head she turned away, one hand lifting to the wall and she allowed that hand to lead her, to hold her up as she staggered toward her room. It seemed so far away and the hallway was so quiet now that she had screamed her anger out into it. She slowed, not hearing any movement behind her and leading herself to believe that maybe he was thinking about her words in silence, pondering them. Knowing Spike though, she doubted it. Her hand came into contact with the console to her quarters and she smacked her palm on it, catching the familiar scent of her room as the doors slid open. And even that smell made her want to cry, the scent of her clothes and her perfumes mixed with the dank odor of the Bebop. It was heavenly at that moment, relief swimming through her. This was home. This was where she belonged, with these crazy smells and these cold walls. She staggered in, hesitating, before dropping face down onto her bed and sinking into the soft mattress. She was heady, on her release and on the alcohol. Never had her bed felt so perfect.

There was a long moment of silence, of the whirring of the engines, the heat banging softly in the vents. As if she really needed more heat.

Then there was a gentle shift of sounds, the pull of clothing, the shuffle of boots. "When I said it, what I said back there," Spike said behind her and she thought she had left him out in the hallway, back in that world that was so hot to her as opposed to the coolness she felt where she lay. "I didn't mean for it to come out the way it did."

Faye futilely shook her head to show him that she didn't care. She only managed to dig her head further into the mattress, inhaling her own scent from the sheets.

"I've made people cry. And maybe it's my stubbornness. Maybe I just don't care," he murmured and his voice carried from the doorway. Now that she thought of it she didn't recall having heard that door close. "But I even made Julia cry, Faye. Our whole…time together. Hiding what we had from Vicious…it made her cry and it made me…" he broke off, hesitant.

Faye's eyes came open slowly and she found herself staring at the opposite wall blindly. The tone of his voice. She turned her head, dragging it across her mattress, a small frown forming on her face. She wanted to see the expression on his face and match it to the tone of his voice. She wanted to see the sadness there because-

Because he was opening up whether he knew it or not.

Shifting her hands beside her for support, she lifted her frame from the bed and looked at him over her shoulder, staring in dawning surprise.

His eyes were downcast, his lips parted for he had broken off, but he searched for words still, the expression on his face one of yearning almost. As if he reached for something. Something that was still just out of reach but on that horizon. Perhaps a way to express what he needed to express. "It made me angry."

She waited for him.

His eyes shifted to her, and he had that expression on his face. That somber expression. But there was more there, now. A need, finally. For someone to hear him and she turned to face him, gazing at him with wide eyes to show him that she would listen. That they were friends whether he believed it or not and that she would always listen if he wanted to be heard. Well, maybe not always. After all, the horses called for her woolongs sometimes.

He bowed his head, lifting the bottle of brandy. And she waited as he came closer to her, dropping her headband and her bracelet onto the bed beside her to free his other hand. Uncapping the brandy once more he took another deep swallow of the liquid, his frame tense.

She wanted a drink, too.

As if sensing it, he lowered the bottle away from his mouth and held it out to her, his throat working. She accepted it and then gingerly slid over on the bed, leaving him room if he wished to sit. And he did so although she showed no sign that it surprised her even as it did. She brought her legs in and crossed them, turning to face him as he plopped his lean frame down on the mattress and she hadn't realized it before but it was dark out. Through her windows she saw the night sky and recognized Ganymede. Bringing the brandy to her lips she took a large swallow and then another, wanting to feel that lethargic, that carefree, always. Maybe she didn't hate being drunk after all.

Looking up into that night sky, she saw the yellow star shining above and she wasn't sure if she imagined it or not but somehow, tonight, it seemed dimmer. She frowned, her fingers tightening around the neck of the bottle reflexively, her jaw clenching. The difference between a falling star and a fading star.

"So are you going to talk to me, Spike? Or you just going to take up my space?" she asked him quietly, turning her attention away from the star that she didn't want to question right then.

Stretched out on her bed, his hands crossed behind his head, she caught the faint smile on his lips at her words. But he sat for another few moments in silence, and she heard him breathe, inhale and exhale, and she remembered a time then when she had missed just being able to sit next to him and listen to him breathe like that. She lifted the brandy to her mouth and took a long swallow, relishing the taste of the alcohol and knowing deep down that while she enjoyed her intoxication now, in the morning she would hate herself. Or him. Or both. She lifted her eyes to the night outside her windows, avoiding the star and feeling strangely light. And she murmured, "After you died…I turned into an alcoholic."

Spike didn't say anything for a long time and she was uncertain whether he had even heard her. But then he turned his head and looked toward her, his eyes flashing in the moonlight and she wanted to curl up beside him and breathe him in, breathe in the scent of cigarettes and brandy.

Of sorrow and heartache.

She gazed at him, her hands curling around the neck of the brandy bottle and she murmured, "I loved the smell of you."

His lips parted as she said it and a moment later she realized she had said it aloud as opposed to the dreamy murmur of her thoughts. She recoiled at her own words and then, immediately, her expression crossed sourly.

"Damn it, this is all your fault…"

Confusion flickered across his face at the mercurial change of her mood and even as he paused to understand she growled at him. "An alcoholic, Spike. I drank all day and night. Because of you. Because you left. And he helped me out of it, Jet did. Did he tell you that?" And she shook her head. "I told him never to tell anyone. And I never expected you to come back."

Spike blinked at her thoughtfully, his gaze wavering. "Is that why he seems so…" he murmured haltingly and then broke off in understanding. He turned his eyes away from her, nodding to himself. "I didn't expect _that."_

She glared at him, her jaw clenching. "There are a lot of things you don't get, Spike. So many things happened and you think that because you weren't here for them that they don't apply to you. But it's _your_ fault. It's been your fault from the beginning." And she added quickly, "And I blame you, Spike! I blame you for making me throw away the first two months of my life after you died. After you didn't come back. I couldn't do it, couldn't cope with it. There were so many highs and lows, so many days I hated Jet because when I saw him I thought of you. Because when he told me you were dead, that he had seen your body, I-" And she broke off.

Even Spike himself flinched as he caught the problem that had just come to light for her.

_Uh-oh._

She stared at him for a long silent moment, the red flush leaving her face almost immediately. As he stared at her he literally saw the blood drain out. And then her head turned toward the door, her lips parting in dawning realization.

"Faye, wait-" Spike was already saying, sitting up instantly. But in her drunken state she found herself to be faster, to have uncovered a secret speed in her. Clutching the bottle of brandy she shot off the bed, the door sliding open as she slammed her hand on the console on the way out.

The hallway was quiet and cold now. The heat she had been carrying with her had left her almost immediately after the revelation. After the epiphany. He couldn't have known. He couldn't have. She didn't want to believe he had known and had never told her. She looked down the hall, her face becoming red once more as dizziness swept her. She shouldn't have gotten up so fast but she needed to know.

She _had_ to know.

Spike came out behind her as she began to move toward the kitchen and he called after her, "He isn't here."

She whirled on him. "Where is he?" she demanded.

Spike remained silent, his jaw tightening.

Coming close to him she growled low in her throat, clutching the bottle of brandy so hard she could have crushed the slender neck. "Spike," she said warningly.

He wasn't one to be threatened with a bark or a hiss. But as he studied her silently, she saw her desperation win him over. "He went out with Ed. To get some food and medical supplies." And his eyes darted to the side thoughtfully. "This crew takes a lot of punishment these days."

She stopped before him, and she was heaving for a breath, she realized. Afraid to ask and afraid of his answer. He glanced down at her as she came to a slow halt in front of him, his head bowed toward hers, and she asked softly, trembling, "Did he know?"

He didn't reply, a muscle shifting in his jaw.

Faye lifted her head to stare at him, to beg him. "Just answer the question," she said, pleading, her green eyes wide. "After everything you have put me through, after _all_ of it, you _owe_ me this."

Spike's expression shifted into one of somber blankness and after a tiny pause, he replied quietly, "Yes."

Faye bowed her head, reaching out without realizing and taking hold of his shirt, fingers gripping the material as her hand closed into a trembling fist. He shifted from the strength of her grip, his frame stiffening. But then she whispered, "Damn it…" and her voice was muffled, her forehead pressing against his chest wearily, her eyes clenching shut.

Spike remained silent for a long while, not moving in the least. And neither did she, only her hand shaking as she kept a grip on his shirt, as she hid her face against his shoulder, her other hand clutching the bottle of brandy weakly.

* * *

In the silence of her room, they didn't feel like anything to each other. Not friends. Not enemies. Only like complete strangers waiting for something to happen around them. Faye stared out the window, curled up against the wall beside her bed, resting against pillow cushions at her back. And Spike had not left either, following her when she had returned to her room and sitting in silence at the foot of her bed. So far from her. And she was struck with a vision of reaching out for him always and of him never reaching back. Of him always being just out of her grasp.

"Life's a dream, after all," Spike murmured in the softest voice she had ever heard him use. And he hadn't spoken in a while. His voice was almost loud in the room.

Faye closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window. If life was a dream, it was time to wake up. "It's a nightmare, Spike. All of it."

Spike didn't bother looking at her when he spoke again. He merely met his hands together, rubbing his palms absentmindedly as he murmured to her. "The day I went for her, the day I waited for her, it was raining. I brought flowers, red roses, and I waited for her and smoked cigarette after cigarette. And she never came. And I stood there in the rain. Some stupid, tragic figure out there, waiting." He chuckled but it came out strained, not at all humorous. "Afterwards, after I died the first time, I thought, _'This is my chance. Start over. Be different. Not some stupid kid anymore.'_"

Faye did not say a word, her head tilted against the wall, her heart pounding painfully.

"And Jet and I…" he nodded as he spoke, staring at his hands, opening them and splaying them widely before closing them into fists once more. "We made it work. Made it work long enough for me to believe that maybe I could do it. Leave shit behind and turn my back on it. Because…it was such a…" And he didn't say anything for a long moment, his breathing erratic. His face shifted as he lifted his head slightly, as he stared directly ahead at her wall before him and searched for the right words. "It was wrong. What I felt for her at the time. It was wrong. Because she already had someone even if she wasn't in love with him. But I needed her." He closed his eyes as he spoke, his hands coming to a stop, his voice softening as he seemed to relive her, everything about her. "I needed her the way…"

_The way I need you._

Faye grimaced at the thought and turned her face into the window, wanting to shrink away.

"I needed her the way he never did." And his voice was sorrowful, his throat clenching. "And we knew it was wrong, when I would visit her with him. The way we would look at each other when he wasn't looking. When we _thought_ he wasn't looking. We knew it was wrong but we…didn't care." He paused, shoulders stiffening slightly. "No, that's not it. We _did_ care. We just…didn't care _enough_."

Faye opened her eyes slowly, aware of the tears that were slowly rising in her eyes at the tone of his voice. The pain that was running throughout his voice. It was cruel of him, to speak this way, about this, to her. With that pain and the tremble in his tone. It was raw.

"And one day, we went to her place and he was waiting for us. Vicious was. As if he had known all along. Or maybe suspected. It didn't matter in the end. Because she left us both." He nodded, gaze shifting across the wall, searching futilely. "It was…stupid."

Faye lifted a hand to her head and leaned her forehead into it, turning her face from him so he couldn't see. "Wasn't stupid," she whispered, looking out into the night and not wanting to see anything herself. "Love isn't stupid." And she closed her eyes, feeling a tear fall down the side of her face. She shifted her hand to catch it with her palm, to begin to erase its existence. "Love is blind."

"You think love makes us blind?" he questioned faintly.

Faye nodded slowly, rubbing her palm against her cheek, her fingers hiding her eyes from him. "I think love makes us do things we'd never think to do on our own. Kind of like alcohol."

She heard him chuckle quietly at that. And her heart broke at the sound. Because the pain was still in the depths of that laugh. She closed her eyes once more as the tickle rose in her nose, as her vision began to blur. Slowly, she shifted her palm from her cheek to the bridge of her nose and pressed firmly. She was not going to cry in front of him.

Before her Spike shifted and she didn't look at him to see if he had risen from the bed. But when he spoke his voice led her to believe he had turned to face her. "Don't blame Jet, Faye."

She clenched her jaw, wanting to look up at his words but not wanting him to see her tears. "I can't blame anyone, Spike," she growled bitterly, feeling the snap to her tone and relishing it. Anything but the hurt she was feeling. "It's the short end of the fucking stick that I always get stuck with. You don't want me to blame Jet but you don't want me to blame you, either. Even after everything-"

"I don't care if you blame me, Faye," he said quietly, silencing her. "If you want to blame me for everything, go ahead. I won't fight you on it. But not Jet. He doesn't deserve that." And it was the first time she had ever really heard Spike come to Jet's defense about anything. They had always been friends but when Jet was blamed with something he had always kept his nose out of it. Now, to hear him speak to her, she found herself surprised.

"You have no right to ask anything of me, Spike," she murmured to him. And she lifted her head then, hoping her bangs would cover, at least partially, her red eyes. He was gazing at her and as she met his gaze he returned the stare, his eyes traveling her face. "If I had told you that Julia had died when deep down I knew she was alive, that I had left her to find her own way, to be free once and for all, you would have been angry, too. More than angry. You would have _killed_ someone-"

"It's not the same thing," he said to her quietly with a shake of his head.

She stared at him with hooded eyes. She had to hand it to him then. She could tell he was trying very hard to rein in his temper. Any mention of Julia would have had him itching to rip her throat out normally. "How do you know?"

He leaned forward a bit, frowning. "You don't feel for me the way I felt for-" And he broke off, staring at her, his lips parted as she merely gazed at him sadly. He hesitated, his eyes slowly falling away and he murmured, "Oh..."

With a sullen shake of her head Faye turned her head to look out into the night once more. She had to admit that at times he really was a lunkhead.

"Well," he mumbled, nodding his head faintly. "Thanks for the light-hearted conversation, Faye. It sobered me up real quick."

She sighed, letting her eyes slide back to him. "Shut up, Spike," she said to him shortly. "Letting your mouth run on about this won't win you brownie points with anyone."

He chuckled again, teeth flashing in the darkness. The pain was lessening in his voice. "How about my devastating good looks?"

Faye's mouth twisted at that, an eyebrow arching. "Maybe if you ate a little more, put some meat on those chicken legs. And took a hacksaw to the hair."

He lifted a hand to it, grinning, and patted down his unruly hair.

With a sigh, fighting the small smile that threatened to break out over her own face, Faye turned back to the window. Brushing the lock of hair from her eyes now that the danger of tears was gone, she looked up at the starry night. And Spike lifted his head at the gesture, his eyes coming to rest on her.

With an almost invisible smile, he murmured, "There she is."

Faye glanced at him, tilting her head. "What?"

He was still smiling that painfully soft smile. Only now Julia was no longer hovering in his thoughts. Not then. "The girl. In the video. With the purple hair and the pom-poms. She was there for a second. But," and his smile slipped a bit. "She's gone now."

Faye's eyebrows tilted upward at his meaning, her throat clenching. Maybe the threat of tears wasn't entirely gone yet.

"Where does she go?" he asked her thoughtfully.

Faye shook her head at him. "I don't know," she whispered mournfully. "I don't know where she goes. But I noticed, since you came back…she comes out a lot more." And her face softened, green eyes gentle.

Spike nodded faintly, eyes shifting to the window, to her reflection there, she realized. "What does she like to do? Other than cheer and videotape messages?"

Faye finally smiled at the thought, staring out the window at the night sky. "She likes…to hang out with her friends," she said, forcing a stronger tone and straightening as she gave it a good thought. "Sleep till late in the day. Carve her name into dressers. And she likes to listen to old-time music. One song in particular."

Spike nodded, leaning back against the edge of her bed, the corner of his mouth twitching. "My Funny Valentine." And the way he said it, said her last name as she knew it now, made her close her eyes and sigh sadly.

She nodded as well, frowning to herself slightly. "I needed to get the song. Of all things I have ever needed, that was one of the most important," she murmured to him. "I actually bought it with hard-earned woolongs. From bounty to music store." And she motioned to the music player against her dresser.

Spike glanced over with a raised eyebrow and then stood, his lanky frame floating over toward the device. Bending over he studied it for a moment before finding the button to play it. And the music that came out of the speakers was slow and innocent, a different era, a different time entirely. He recognized the song from the day he had spoken with Faye in the hangar, remembered thinking the song slow and dumb. But here, listening to the opening verse, he realized there was something beautiful in its innocence. He cocked his head as a feminine voice floated out, his eyes crinkling as he smiled faintly. And behind him he heard Faye as she began to sing softly, her voice very low, almost lost under the singer's own voice. He glanced at her over his shoulder, smiling wryly, and she seemed to be in a different world then. He stared at her, stunned into silence, and he saw the little girl in the video with the wild purple hair and the cheerful smile.

_"Do your best, do your best! Me, me, me!"_

And he heard her voice in Faye's own as she sang absentmindedly, her eyes closed as she rested her head against the window.

He felt the sudden heaviness of sorrow, then. Saw it in this Faye's expression, in the lift to her eyebrows as she sang. And he paused to wonder for a moment if she had ever really been happy with that boy from the picture. The one who had carved their names into a dresser so long ago. The one who had introduced her to blues and jazz, to this song.

If they had ever danced to it.

Taking a step toward the bed he nudged it a bit with his knee and her eyes came open, mouthing the words quietly. And then the words died altogether on her lips as he motioned for her to stand. She frowned faintly but he merely held a hand out to her, motioning with a tilt of his head.

Scooting over, she reached out and took his hand, sliding toward the edge of the bed and then rising to stare at him in question. He smiled and said, "I'm no Charlie Parkerson," to which her eyes widened, her lips parting, "but I know a few moves."

She stared at him, looking as if she wanted to laugh incredulously at his words but instead moved closer to him without doing so. He lifted a hand and rested it on her waist, her arm rising to clasp him by the shoulder. And for a moment it was awkward, her heart beating erratically, their hands uncertain where to go. But she took hold of him firmly, positioning him exactly where she wanted him and smiling slightly as he threw her an eye roll.

Then, just like that, she rested her head beside her hand on his shoulder and she inhaled his scent, breathing it in deeply. He smelled of cigarettes and brandy. Of that same scent of things long gone and forever lost. And with the music in the background, the woman's voice rising and falling, the tears that rose were overpowering. Her hand tightened in his and as he bowed his head she lifted hers slightly. With a small deceptive movement, she lifted her fingers from his shoulder to her cheek, to wipe away the tear that had fallen. He made believe he didn't notice it. Just the way only he could.

And she smiled mournfully, resting her head down once more.


	25. Deception and Change

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* * *

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A/N:

Before I start, I was wondering if anyone wanted to send me any ideas on songs for the soundtrack I have going for this fic. I'm going to post a list up at my livejournal account (for the link, check out my profile, it's toward the bottom. If you have an lj account, say hi! I'm on lj every day! ^^) of the songs and chapters but if anyone wants to PM me some ideas, that would help a lot. I love discovering music. Currently just looking at English and Japanese music and hopefully with a Bebop vibe. :)

Emjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Four - Deception and Change:**

There was a song in the background, one she hadn't heard in a long, long time. It sounded old, the bluesy-jazz sound of the old century. She had heard it once, somewhere, somewhere she couldn't remember then.

_Am I supposed to be remembering right now?_

She floated through the empty corridors of the Bebop and she felt as if she swam, as if moving was too difficult to do effortlessly. She paused by Jet's room, a hand coming to rest on the doorway to the room but inside it was empty. His bonsai rested on the small table inside, tiny branches reaching outward and up. She hesitated, frowning. Before her eyes the branches of the bonsai began to shift, springing out, growing and she stared, silently. A moment later she moved on, seeing the branches of the bonsai grow too heavy and tilt down to the table, off the edges and toward the walls. She didn't care. She wasn't even sure this was real. Her green eyes shifted to the walls as she left Jet's room, catching hesitantly. They pulsed strangely, as if something moved within them but the notion did not make her afraid so much as curious. She lifted a hand, reaching toward the wall and as she poked a small bubble it melted away to form a solid surface once more. She left it behind, frowning thoughtfully, and continued on. She needed to get to the hangar but this wasn't the way.

Pausing by a closed door she felt a shiver run down her spine and she whirled to look behind her. Something shimmered in the air for a moment, a trick of the light perhaps but then she was alone in the silence and she didn't understand. Lifting a hand she pressed on the console and the door slid open.

The hangar greeted her and the fresh air floated in, sunlight beckoning. Was this Ganymede? But the air was fresh without the hint of sea or salt. She came forward a step, lips parting, and the Redtail was in the corner, pristine and ready. Beside it the Swordfish also seemed immaculate, shiny metal and sleek edges. She slowly moved by the ships, examining them absentmindedly and she heard the sounds of the outside world the closer she got to the edge of the hangar. A figure stood at the end, standing straight but comfortably and Faye recognized it to be Spike, his head turned to stare out over water. She came up behind him, looking about.

_"Spike."_ Her voice came from her softly and metallic, almost monotonous. She didn't understand.

The bounty hunter turned to glance at her, a cigarette clenched between his teeth and he sent her a raised brow in silent question. "_Hmmm?"_

She stared at him, aware that he had responded to her but his image was hazy and surreal. She lifted a hand slowly toward him but as she did so her hand suddenly shimmered, weaving in and out of focus. _"Why does this feel so strange?"_

Spike chewed on the cigarette for a moment, studying her before lifting his eyes to look to the side. _"Ever feel like your world is falling apart and there's nothing you can do about it?"_ he asked her.

She recoiled a bit at that, hand falling away.

_"Ever had to start over?"_

She shook her head at him senselessly. _"I don't want to start over, Spike. I want things to be the way they are. I don't want things to change-"_

_"Have I changed yet?"_ And as he cut her off, as he looked at her, a figure flashed behind him for a moment. Ghostly. Eerily. A familiar blond woman clothed in black, with sad light eyes. One moment of a vision and then she was gone and Spike was still looking at her questioningly. Looking like he needed to know. _"Am I courageous now?"_

Faye took a step toward him, reaching out for him once more, and her hand went through him, through his form. She hesitated, her face paling as she pulled her hand back. _"Don't do that-"_

Spike turned back around to look out over the water.

_"Don't do that!" _she shouted and she reached for him one last time, her hands passing through him as if she were nothing but an emotional wind. _"Damn it, Spike, show me! Show me the truth!"_

He shook his head, playing as if unaware that she was attempting to touch him. _"There is no truth, Faye. There is only deception and change."_ And he glanced at her once more. _"Change is hard. How am I doing so far?"_

* * *

Faye snapped awake with a gasp, her green eyes wide. For a moment her vision blurred, her lips parted. It felt like a nightmare, what she had just had, but there was nothing in the dream that had made it frightening. There had been panic but nothing to fear.

She found herself on her bed, heaving. Her vision slowly focused as she lifted a hand to her heart, swallowing breath after breath of air. Then, in relief, she lifted the hand to her eyes and merely held it there, her heart pounding. That ranked up there with one of the strangest dreams she had ever had, she had to admit.

Beside her she heard quiet breathing and she looked over, her hand dropping away, to see Spike next her, lying horizontally at the foot of her bed. They had fallen asleep in the night, after he had danced with her. She paused, feeling it still, the way it had felt to have him hold her. To know she hadn't dreamt it all. Had he ever danced with Julia? He probably had. Maybe one night in a bar, one of the old jukeboxes coming to life with a mellow song. It seemed very _Spike_. She shifted on the bed as she sat up and the time on her music player read 7am. She had only slept for two hours. And while she didn't have a hangover, something told her she didn't have one because she was still feeling a bit of the intoxication. She lifted her hand back to her forehead, her hair falling loose around her face. And hesitantly, she glanced once more toward Spike, cautious.

He faced toward her, his lips slightly parted, one hand against his chest and the other beside him on the mattress. His upper body was stretched out flat on the bed but his bent legs fell off the side to rest on the floor.

She had to hand it to him. Any which way he slept, even if it was uncomfortable for her, it seemed quite comfortable for him. She smiled faintly and rose on to her knees, peeking down at him from overhead. He did not stir in the least and she was convinced he wouldn't be up for another few hours. Even like this, merely staring at him, his face seemed to retain some of the lines of his hard life but the more she observed them, the lighter they seemed. She doubted it had anything to do with her. In fact, she had probably put her fair share of lines on his face. But he sure hid it well and the thought brought a tiny smile to her face.

_"Change is hard. How am I doing so far?"_

Gazing at him she whispered faintly, "You're doing fine." And she rose off the bed cautiously so as not to wake him. At the doorway she paused once more, her hand raised over the console. "Just…change for the better, Spike."

And with that she tapped the console, the door swishing open faintly. She stepped through, the door closing behind her weary frame. A moment after the door slid shut Spike opened his eyes a bit, wordless for a long breath. And then he closed his eyes once more, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Why does she always ask so much of me?"

* * *

The first thing Faye caught a whiff of when she exit her room was the aroma of freshly-made coffee. She came to a complete stop, closed her eyes, rose on tiptoe and sniffed once, twice, three times. And with a song in her heart she allowed the scent to whisk her toward the kitchen area, practically floating on its tendrils in delight.

Coming to the open doorway she paused and opened her eyes.

"Hey!" Jet cheered and he smiled at her, standing before the stove with his shades in place, the sound of peppers sizzling in the pan.

"Faye-Faye!" Ed shrieked and a moment later long, gangly arms surrounded her waist tightly, Ed looking up at her with large, amber eyes shining brightly. At their feet Ein slid to a stop and barked loudly, tongue panting as he sent Faye the same joyful expression.

Faye tossed Ein a sardonic look, lifting her arms and placing them on her hips just below Ed's arms. "You're looking a bit too happy to see me," she said, leaning back slightly and staring down at the hacker darkly. "What did you break?"

Ed chuckled evilly before releasing her and darting back toward the small table in the corner, flinging her lean frame into a chair. "Edward missed Faye-Faye!" she declared with a toothy grin, hands meeting between her knees, innocence lighting up her face.

"Is that right?" Faye drawled and she entered the kitchen at last, coming to stand beside Jet and throwing the hacker another suspicious glare.

"How ya feeling?" Jet asked her. He removed his shades, stepping away from the stove to leave the peppers sizzling. As he looked toward her he frowned momentarily, examining the side of her head and she knew he was studying her bruises and healing cuts.

She pursed her lips. "Hmm. Well, let's see. I feel like I was kidnapped from jail, forced to escape, crashed a ship and then went and got drunk to toast the happy occasion," she replied to him with a twist to her mouth, her arms crossing over her chest.

Jet gaped at her. "Is that really how it went down?"

She glared at him. "Jet, I was just put through the worst few days of my life. Both before and after my cold sleep. I'm about ready to blow up your ship just to cheer myself up-"

Jet lifted a hand to his bald head with a wince.

"But I won't," she added to which he sighed in relief. She shrugged. "I'm kinda disappointed, though. In you."

Jet remained silent for a moment, staring at her as she gazed back with hooded, disapproving green eyes. Then he lifted his hands to his hips, bowing his head. "Look, Faye," he began gruffly. "We did what we did because we didn't know what else-"

"Not about that, damn it!" she cut him off. "I'm talking about the fact that you knew the whole time, about Spike. That you knew he was alive and that you didn't tell me."

Jet stared at her with a penetrating dark gaze for a long moment, his lips twisting. "I see…" he said as he understood. He nodded, bowing his head to look at the suddenly interesting floor. "That I did because I didn't know if he was going to come back, Faye. I didn't know if-"

"I asked you not to blame it on him," Spike's voice said from behind and they both whirled to look at him where he hovered in the doorway.

"I _don't_ blame him," Faye said to the leaner bounty hunter haughtily. "I never said I was mad. I just said I was disappointed. I expected more."

Spike cocked his head, leaning his lanky frame against the doorframe, hands tucked away into his pockets.

"Like I was saying before the whole crew decided to interrupt me," Jet said roughly, his eyebrow twitching, eyes closed. "I did it for all of us. I didn't want Spike to feel like he had to come back, like he was _forced_ to come back. It was something new for him, something he could leave behind if he chose. And _you_," he said. As Faye turned around he suddenly placed his hands on her shoulders and stared her straight in the eyes, his metallic arm hanging heavier. "I needed you to keep moving. You needed to wake up, go back to the way you used to be. I saw you were having a hard time but you needed someone to snap you out of it."

"Edward knew, too!" Ed piped up suddenly, cheerfully.

Faye stared past Jet's arm at the hacker and then turned her head to look at Jet as he let his head drop in defeat at the girl's words. "Even _Ed_ knew?!" she demanded in righteous anger, her wide green eyes piercing.

"Everyone knew except you, Faye," Spike let her know. And he came into the room, patted her in false consolation and squeezed past her and Jet. "I smell coffee."

Faye made a sudden move to choke Spike from behind but Jet got in the way. "Hey, now," he said to her in a warning tone, his hands still tight on her shoulders.

"Why does Spike get the good treatment? I'm the one who's all beat up!" she whined.

"Oh someone's definitely about to get beat up and I'm thinking it's going to be a bounty hunter!" a tough voice said from behind and Faye didn't even have to recognize the voice to know to hide. She immediately squeezed in behind Jet, her hands clutching his uniform top from behind.

"I didn't do it!" she cried.

VT looked angry enough to melt the metal in the room with her glare. Standing at the doorway to the kitchen, cap pulled low over her short hair, she looked like she hadn't gotten any kind of sleep in a week either. "Who the hell is going to pay for my ship?" she demanded loudly, powerful arms crossing over her chest. "Damn it, this is what I get when I help out bounty hunters!"

Jet cleared his throat. Then reaching out behind himself, past Faye, he took hold of Spike's elbow to drag him back. "I assure you, VT, he is going to do everything in his power to repair your ship."

"Me?" Spike murmured in an undertone, a mug of coffee steaming in his hand. Faye looked at him stiffly, clearly regarding him as an accomplice.

"Somebody better!" VT growled. "And who the hell is this Doohan guy? He's charging _you_ guys, right? Because I don't have the woolong to fix up the truck!"

"How big a mess was it?" Faye asked Spike in a conspiratorial whisper as Jet took a step to speak with VT.

"Um, kinda big," Spike whispered back and he smiled innocently at VT as the trucker raged at Jet. "You were a bit dead on my back at the time but her truck crashed pretty badly." And when she stared at him to prod him on, he murmured, "The truck is dead in the water. The hull came off completely. I doubt she'll be able to fly for a while."

"What about _my_ ship?" Faye hissed back.

"Oh, that's fine. It's in the hangar. I thought there'd be a lot more damage but Jet said he found it on the side of a road. The only damage it _did_ have was the hit it took to the back. He was able to pinpoint the location by its signal. But my radio was down so when we got to VT she was pretty pissed but her communications were still up and running. I called Jet down, told him what happened and he picked us up. He's calling Doohan to fix it up but Doohan still hasn't gotten payment for the weapons we outfitted the Bebop with so…no, he isn't very happy with us at this present time." Spike shrugged, looking far too angelic to be taken seriously.

Faye pursed her lips and jumped slightly when VT's voice arced in loudness once more. "And your ship?" she asked the bounty hunter.

Spike paused, dark eyes sliding sideways in thought. "I was hoping to ask Doohan to fix it but like I mentioned earlier, we haven't paid yet for the weapons so I don't know how happy he's going to be to foot the bill for VT's truck and then my ship after."

Faye glanced toward Jet as the bounty hunter nodded to something VT growled. "Can't Jet do anything? I mean, he's not on the ship just to take up space."

Spike turned his head to stare at her. "This is _his_ ship, Faye," he said to her by way of reminder.

"So _what?"_

Spike moved to say something more but Jet was turning back to them once more, a hand rubbing his bald head. "Ok boys and girls," he said although there was only the two of them before him. "Here's where the problem comes in. We don't have the money to fix VT's truck and Spike's ship. Which means we're screwed unless we can make some quick change in a small amount of time."

Faye stared at him, Spike shoving one of his hands into his pockets and bowing his head to take a sip of the coffee.

"Any ideas?" Jet asked them gruffly, looking from one to the other.

Spike sighed. "If we sell Ein to the highest bidder maybe we can make some decent woolong off him." And at his side Faye turned her head toward Jet with an emphatic nod in agreement.

From the table Ed slowly looked over her shoulder to glare at Spike malevolently.

"Well," Faye said when it seemed that option wasn't going to go over healthily. She crossed her arms over her chest thoughtfully. "I have an idea but I can't promise we'll come out of it alive," she said to them.

Spike and Jet both looked at her, interest piqued. Even behind them VT came closer curiously.

"Well, where can we find a large amount of woolong? What one place is constantly circulating it?" Faye asked them, a hand splaying questioningly.

Jet frowned. "Banks?"

Faye paused. She had to give him that one. "Ok, what other place?" she tried again. And as the boys looked at her questioningly she grabbed Spike by the front of his shirt and shook him. "Casinos!" she cried.

Spike stared at her with slightly widened eyes, clutched in her talons. "Casinos?" He asked, mouth barely moving. And his face darkened. "Faye, we don't have the startup capital to try to win any woolong from casinos-"

Faye smiled at him mischievously. "Who said anything about winning?" she asked him, eyes shifting from him to Jet. And then she glanced toward Ed, the hacker blinking at her wordlessly. "We're about to become casino robbers, guys."

Spike continued to gaze at her for a long moment as she pulled her eyes away from Ed to look back at him. And then, with Jet groaning beside them, Spike let a slow smile creep onto his face, mirroring hers only too well.

"Damn bounty hunters," VT mumbled, turning her head as if she wanted nothing to do with any of them. "It figures."


	26. Invincible Joker

**Chapter Twenty-Five - Invincible Joker:**

The plan was simple. Ed and Jet were going in first, Jet masquerading as Ed's father who just wanted a little bit of fun at the tables after the death of his beloved wife.

"There's no way Jet would go to a casino without the only daughter of a dead wife, what kind of father would he be?" Spike asked the group with an impish smile.

Already it was obvious things would only go downhill.

Faye had disagreed from the start. "Why would he go to the casinos to begin with after the death of his wife? There are better places to take a kid," she had argued with a shake of her head, a hand gesturing from Jet to Ed.

"We _need_ Ed to be able to get into the casino. At least into the _lobby_ of the casino. Not stay outside, not go shopping on the boardwalks. Ed needs to be _inside_ or this _will not work,"_ Spike stressed. "So if you have a better idea, I'm all ears."

"Edward is playing with computers again?" the girl asked with inquisitive amber eyes, seated on the metal table in the center of the common room.

Spike glanced at her, a mischievous grin curling his lips. "Always, Ed."

"Ah…"

"Ok, Jet, you're just going to hang around, I guess. Scope out the security, stuff like that," Faye said to him and she leaned forward on the ugly yellow couch, Spike slouched next to her. "Spike and I are going in, too, but we need to look inconspicuous." And she glanced at Spike intently as she said it. "Which means you need to comb your hair for once in your life."

Spike threw her a hooded glare, bringing a cigarette to his lips and taking a leisurely drag.

She easily brushed it off. "We are going in just to make sure that Ed can do her job. This is going to be her ballgame. If anything comes up, we need to be able to provide the distraction for her to get out. Ed, you know where to go?"

The hacker was at her Tomato, her fingers flying across the keys rapidly as she examined the sites she was pulling up. "Blueprints for casinos, coming up!" she said and she wiggled an index finger before tapping the Enter key. The screen immediately lit up with various prints of different casinos, all along the strip of Mars that Black Jack had worked. The hacker hunched forward and stared intently, her knee bobbing.

"Ok, Ed, here's what you're going to do," Faye began, looking over the hacker's shoulder at Tomato's screen. She motioned to the windows she had open. "Minimize that. You need to create an offshore account into which we're placing the woolong."

The hacker instantly hunched over, blocking her view of the screen.

"I don't care what you do, just make sure the account can't be moved or found until we're done with it. We need to shift a lot of money and if Doohan doesn't like dealing with banks then too bad, he's not getting paid. Are you listening?" Faye demanded and Ed instantly straightened, glancing at her. Wordlessly, the hacker turned Tomato and Faye found herself looking at the screen along with a site stating "Investment Ideas and Accounts." Faye nodded with a mischievous smile. "Good girl. Can you make an account?"

"Uh-huh."

Faye glanced at Spike then at Jet. "How do you guys feel about dressing up and going out on the town tomorrow?"

Jet stood up with a groan as if he was an old man. "I've always had good taste in clothes and style. I'll be ready."

Faye glanced at Spike once more, motioning to him as he let his eyes shift from her to Jet for a moment. "Good. Then maybe you can give this lunkhead a few pointers. Start with the hair. I need to focus on me tomorrow."

* * *

Faye examined herself in the mirror critically. Nice, slinky dress that fit her curves only too well. The neckline of the dress folded into a mandarin collar, buttoned up the back of her neck, the skirt falling long and slit up the side of her leg and thigh. She had chosen this particular dress for the simple fact that it covered much of her upper body. She needed to look good enough to draw attention but not to demand it wherever she went. Which was going to be hard because whether she liked it or not-

"I'm just too hot."

Spike leaned into her room through the open door with a bored expression. "My hair is going as is or I don't go at all," he stated flatly as she looked at him through the reflection in the mirror. And he examined her for a moment, his eyes swooping down then back up. "Not bad. But you're going to have to do something about the cut on your head. And I can see a bit of the bandage on your shoulder from the gunshot."

Faye twisted her lips a bit as she continued to examine herself. "Yeah, I see," she mumbled, turning to a side profile and examining her slender frame decisively. With a sigh she stooped and lifted the first aid kit she had hidden in the corner of her room. Maybe it belonged to the Bebop but she was more important than a ship with metal parts anyway. Setting it on her dresser, she popped it open and retrieved the roll of gauze and a couple of bandages. "Help me," she ordered Spike, glaring his way.

The leaner bounty hunter entered the room with a small sigh, sauntering toward her and pausing beside her as she plopped down on the edge of her bed. Grimacing, she handed him the items heavily and then began to unbutton the collar, dragging the top of the dress down from her shoulder and carefully pulling her arm free of the sleeve.

"But it's so soon in the relationship," Spike said in a bored monotone, medical items in his palms, sneaking a peek over the edge of the dress.

"Shut it," she growled at him, eyes bestowing a glare upon him. Pulling the top of the dress off her aching shoulder, she reached toward her it and gingerly took hold of the edge of the used gauze wrapping. As it came off she unwound the strip from her neck and shoulder repeatedly, setting it aside in a pile of rolled up cloth and then turning her attention to the bandages covering the bullet wound. The bandages stuck to one another and she ended up having to pull them all off as one, wincing as dried blood adhered the bandages to the stitches.

Spike shifted past her to the kit, balancing the unused items in one palm and dug through the kit, pulling out several packs of alcohol pads. Wordlessly, he slit one open with his teeth and held the gaping packet to her, the pungent odor of alcohol burning her nostrils as she took it out.

"Oof."

Finally wrestling the bandage from the wound, she dabbed at the dried blood with the alcohol pad and then a second one, passing it carefully over the stitches. It didn't look too bad anymore but it was possible that it was just a trick of the lighting in her room. Tossing the used pads on the dresser, Faye opened the unused bandages he held out to her and applied them to the wound, her breath hitching slightly as she found herself pressing on the bruised flesh surrounding the gunshot. The bruises were still an ugly purple immediately surrounding the wound but yellowed further out. Ripping open the gauze packaging she unwrapped the roll a bit and held one edge directly to the side of her breast and under her arm.

"Tie me up," she said to Spike, holding the roll of gauze out to him with her free hand. And the moment she said it she wanted to smack herself in the forehead.

Spike hesitated thoughtfully. "Never mind, too easy," he said in agreement as she glowered. With a slight playful smile curling the edges of his lips he took the gauze into his hand and nudged her arm up for access.

Faye found herself holding her breath as he leaned toward her to gauge the length of the gauze he would need. She was quite aware then of the scent of cigarette smoke hovering around him, quickly swallowing. Every time he came within a foot of her he made her want to smoke because of that exact scent. She inhaled deeply, inaudibly, bowing her head toward her wound as he began to wind the roll around and under her shoulder. "Lift your arm a bit," he said quietly, eyes narrowing slightly. She did so, aware that she felt the tiniest bit awkward to be cupping the edge of her breast just under the top of the dress. Silently, he wound the gauze over the edge she had kept in place, at last moving her fingers away once he had secured the end under layers of wrapping. Then he unwound the gauze further, trailing it upward and around her neck to further support the wrapping. After several windings he ripped the edge of the gauze and then clipped the material down against her neck, stepping away a moment later to admire his work. "Look at that. Good as new."

"Bite me," she mumbled, ducking her head away from him.

As Spike tossed the remaining unused gauze into the open first aid kit, a smile on his face, Faye stood up once more. Gingerly, she pulled the top of her dress back up slowly, slipping her arm back into the cut of the sleeve. Buttoning the collar once more, she patted down the dress, Spike smirking in the mirror. "Oh, admit it," she snapped at him. "I am a thing of beauty." And as he rolled his eyes she lifted her hand to her head and debated tying her bangs across her forehead and the side of her face to hide the gash. "I have a lot of makeup work ahead of me though," she murmured, motioning to the bruises along her temple and close to the corner of her mouth where they were still clinging.

"Ok, ladies and gents," Jet's voice floated by way of introduction and he strolled into the room, Spike glancing at him over his shoulder curiously. "How's it look?"

Dressed in a cream-colored suit with the casual fedora perched atop his head, Jet looked nothing short of dashing. His strong form had always filled the suit out nicely when he wore it for a night on Mars but tonight he seemed especially eye-catching.

Faye smiled at his reflection in the mirror as she fixed her collar distractedly. "See, Spike," she purred and she slid over to Jet, fiddling with his tie and then readjusting the fedora a bit. "This is what I'm talking about when I say classy."

Jet threw Spike a smile before slipping on a pair of shades as well.

"Mr. Black will be sizzling tonight," Spike retorted good-naturedly, straightening and then moving toward the doorway. Behind Jet Ed suddenly appeared at the door and Spike came to a screeching stop. Stunned into silence, he took one long incredulous look at the hacker before erupting into laughter.

"What _is_ that?"

Ed looked none too happy either, dressed in a frilly white piece accentuating her stick figure frame. She even had the bow in her head to top it off. And on her feet were shiny black shoes over crisp white socks. "Papa," she growled at Jet, her hand moving toward the shoes. No doubt to rip one off in utter fury.

Jet stared at her wordlessly, jaw hanging open, his shades slipping down his nose.

"Ah, ah!" Faye said loudly, motioning to the hacker's reaching hand. "Don't even think about it, Ed! If I find one shoe off your foot I will personally _eat_ Ein!"

The hacker froze, fingers wiggling as if they itched.

Faye turned and moved toward her closet, digging into it for a moment. And then she pulled out a large, white purse and came back toward the doorway, handing it to Ed. "For the laptop." And at the hacker's horrified face, she snapped, "Deal with it."

For a moment Ed literally seemed as if she was going to burst into tears. "Faye-Faye is being mean to Edward!" the hacker cried miserably.

"Spike, go. I want to leave soon," Faye said, oblivious to the wailing girl. "It's going to be a busy night and this is the busiest night of the week anyway." She smiled. "Let's make some cash, boys."

* * *

"I'll be around the corner," VT nodded from the control chair, swinging about to face Jet. On her lap Zeros was contentedly purring away, the sound rumbling faintly throughout the room.

"Now, VT," Jet said cautiously and he bent toward the older woman, Faye and Spike behind him, Ed examining her shoes critically. "I know we have certain people on this ship who...did some damage to your ship. But remember the Bebop is _mine._"

VT merely looked at him, poker-faced.

Jet stared at her for another moment in silence, obviously hoping his face would convey his thoughts to the trucker. And then, with a sigh, he straightened, fixing his fedora once more.

"I won't destroy your ship, Jet," VT said after him with a small smile. And she cocked her head to look past him at Spike and Faye. "Well, don't you two make a lovely couple? My husband had to pull hair to get me into that kind of get up."

Faye glanced at herself, patting down the tight skirt that accentuated her hips and upper thighs. The long slit on the side allowed her the freedom to move, to draw her Glock if necessary. Lifting a hand to her hair she readjusted the pins securing it, checking the side part and allowing her hands to follow a chunk of hair as it swept down and across her forehead to hide the gash. She felt the makeup she had caked on but it looked better on her than it did most women. All in all, she was happy with her appearance.

Beside her Spike had fought tooth and nail before allowing her to force him into a suit. Dark gray and proper, he would have resembled a businessman had it not been for his mop of dark hair. She let her eyes run down his frame at a leisurely pace and even as she did so he straightened, glaring at her.

"You make me feel like a piece of meat, Faye," he murmured and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Welcome to my fantasy," she sighed and she spun back around, her eyes resting on Ed finally. The hacker looked miserable still. But she reluctantly floated forward and wound an arm through Jet's as he offered it to her.

"Papa," she said to him and she smiled cheerfully, causing Jet to blanch a bit.

"We ready to make some money?" Faye asked. And beside her Spike checked his Jericho purposefully, his jaw tight. "Now, remember guys. We _want_ Black Jack to find us. Or three of us anyway. The best thing that can happen would be for him to see us. Because then that means he's not going to be focused on Ed inside. But not unless the shit just hits the fan. We'll stay in contact with Ed." She looked toward Spike. "Right?"

Spike motioned to an ear piece he had on, the mouthpiece clear and almost invisible against his jaw.

Faye nodded, satisfied. "Hopefully by the time Black Jack notices a chunk of his woolong gone, we'll have split the money and gotten some repairs done." And she flashed a mischievous grin. "Let's do it."

* * *

Having landed the Bebop several hundreds of yards away, Faye began to feel a bit of anxiety as they snuck out into the casino's lot. Spike disembarked, helping Ed down although the girl seemed more agile than a monkey and he spun as a valet appeared at his side with a wide smile.

"Hey there, mister. Park your ship?" the kid asked, checking out Faye's backside as she climbed down from the Bebop.

"No, it's fine here," Jet said to the kid, glancing toward Ed as she looped an arm through his once more.

"But it's no trouble, really-"

Spike took hold of the kid's collar and dragged him close, smiling into the boy's face. "Scram before I beat the snot out of you, kid."

The boy stumbled as he was released and quickly righted himself, bowing before scampering off.

"Spike," Faye began with a twitching eyebrow, her eyes shut tightly, hands propped on her hips. "When I said we wanted to draw attention to ourselves, I recall saying we wanted to draw the attention when and _if_ something goes-"

"Yeah, yeah, can we do this now? I want to get a drink," Spike cut her off in boredom.

Faye checked the impulse to deck him in the face. Instead she looked toward Jet and the older man nodded to them once. Then, silently but keeping a hold on Ed he began to head toward the front entrance of the casino, Ed skipping along at his side and swinging the large white purse.

"Think this'll work?" Spike asked her under his breath, glancing up toward the ship before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a box of cigarettes.

"It has to," Faye replied and she turned to him, stealing a cigarette from his stash.

"Are you…_ever_ going to get your own cigarettes?" he asked her with a growl.

"Why should I when I get my steady supply from you?"

At the casino doors there was a pause as security stopped Jet for a moment, motioning to Ed and shaking their heads. Jet took off his fedora and then held it before him with both hands, Ed clinging to his arm. Faye knew the routine already, her foot tapping impatiently.

_"My wife passed, just this May, and my daughter has finally worked up enough courage to leave the house. I can't bear to leave her behind, she's the only one I have now and I wanted to take her out on the town, help her enjoy life again. Would you stop an old man just trying to help his only daughter cope with her own mother's passing?"_

Faye watched the guards pause and then glance at each other uncertainly. Then with a shake of his head and what appeared to be a sigh, one guard came forth, fished a strap from his pocket and wound it around Ed's slender wrist, explaining something as he tied it securely. Then, with a nod, he stepped aside and Jet led Ed into the casino.

With a quiet, "Yes!" Faye gave Spike a high-five and then stole his matches as well.

* * *

They had managed to get in without a problem, Faye clinging to Spike's arm and looking every inch the high roller. She swept through the grand doors leading into the large lobby purposefully, hips swaying. On her high-heeled pumps and looking around intently, she was quite aware that every single male in the room was following her with his eyes. She swallowed back the triumphant smile, gauging Spike's reaction beside her but he seemed rather unenthused by the attention, his mismatched eyes searching the lobby cautiously. She had been in this casino before, when she had first begun her search for Black Jack. The lobby and grand entrances appeared to be lined in gold and diamonds, with large chandeliers overhead and marble floors below. Glancing down she saw herself reflected upward, Spike looking around at her side. Security personnel guarded the entrances and a large escalator to her left that led up to the casino floor. To her right were numerous elevators and a glum guard posted in the middle interval. Toward the back of the lobby, on either side of the grand hallway, were service counters lined with expectant gamblers and customers. And at the very back of the lobby she caught sight of the doors and windows of a large lounge. It seemed to be lit by candles, soft light flickering from inside and she heard the distinct notes of a piano flowing out.

"She might try to go through the Exchange attendants upstairs in the casino," Spike murmured softly, his lips barely moving as he spoke. She turned to look at him and he bowed his head, drawing closer to her and speaking quietly into the mouthpiece. "Ed, where are you?"

Faye waited at his side, her arm linked through his still. Then, as Spike spoke with Ed she began to drag him through the lobby, scanning the area in interest but feigning the attention of a woman appreciating her surroundings. They floated over toward the escalator that led up into the casino area and even from where they stood they heard the sounds of machines and jackpots drifting down. Looking at each other, Spike's gaze unfocused as he listened to Ed, Faye sent him a prodding stare before taking a step onto the escalator. Absentmindedly Spike brought up the rear and they searched the lobby they were leaving below as they floated toward the second floor.

Once hitting the casino floor, Spike glanced over, his eyes flying to their right where the exchange attendants stood behind bulletproof glass, exchanging money cards and woolongs for chips and change. "Ed, I wouldn't recommend going that way. Maybe-" He paused, bringing Faye to a stop with him. "The bathrooms?"

Faye looked at him as he stared blindly toward a glittering machine, his lips parted. Only he could hear Ed through the earpiece and only Ed could hear him through the mouthpiece. At this time of evening, the casino was crowded, several gamblers jostling the two of them to clamber both on and off the casino floor. His eyes shifted toward Faye as she was pushed slightly by someone coming onto the floor and he quickly darted into her way as she moved to take a step after the culprit. Coming to a stop at finding him in her way she glared at him impatiently.

"Where did you leave Jet?" he asked Ed, staring at Faye's eyes and giving her a look to calm her down. And he recoiled slightly before turning his head to the right. "By the poker tables?"

As Faye composed herself, she glanced around Spike's frame into the main casino floor. Further into the casino, circling around several slot machines, she caught sight of Jet by a poker table, hands shoved into his pockets, the fedora perched fashionably on his head. He also was scoping out the area, his eyes shooting around warily.

"Ok, and you are where?" Spike continued, coming back around to face Faye. "Wait, what kind of vents?" And he finally focused on Faye, nodding, a small smile forming on his face. "There are vents in the bathroom," he said to her and he grimaced as a slot machine suddenly rang, alarms and whistles blaring.

"Vents that lead…" Faye prodded loudly, an eyebrow arching questioningly.

"She's checking now," he replied and he turned back to the mouthpiece, his tone also rising a bit. "Ed, I suggest not getting that frilly white dress all dirty now-" And even through the din of tumbling coins and whistles Faye heard the angry shriek the hacker let loose in the earpiece, Spike wincing as it shot right into his ear.

"All you're doing is pissing her off," Faye sighed, a hand lifting to her hip, her other winding through his once more to drag him away from the escalator as more gamblers rode onto the casino floor.

"Yeah but it's fun." He smiled once more, readjusting the earpiece. "Ok. Ok! I was kidding, Ed. Where do the vents lead, do you know?"

Faye glanced about once more, her green eyes searching the casino floor and the slightest bit worried. She focused on guards positioned close to the escalator and elevators, and at individual posts across the game floor. The moment they looked her way she slanted her gaze aside so as to avoid being caught staring but she still somehow felt as if they could read her true intentions on her heavily made-up face. A shiver was beginning to run down her spine, one she did not like. It seemed any guard she saw now was vaguely familiar and menacing. Her grip on Spike's arm tightening unconsciously, she pulled him over to the far side toward a brightly lit hallway, the sign overhead reading Restrooms.

"She doesn't know," Spike said to her as they paused by the corridor. And he seemed to realize only then that she had dragged the both of them away from the escalators. Curiously, he poked his head around the corner and into the hallway, his eyes searching the long corridor. Halfway down the corridor were the restrooms, one door on each side separated by gender. But his eyes came to rest on the door at the foot of the hallway that read, _Private. Security Entrance_. He frowned faintly and Faye saw the interest blossom on his face even before he moved. Instinctively he began to go down the hallway and Faye's arm through his became steel, curling and clamping down immediately.

"Ok, you see that? What you just did?" she hissed and he paused and looked at her upon realizing how tightly she was clinging to him. "You can _not_ go walking off like that. We're going to screw Ed over if we-"

"I just want to see what's there," Spike said to her with a lopsided smile, his voice coming out almost in a purr. And he pulled on her, his smile turning teasing, his eyes darting around to make sure they weren't being watched.

Faye followed finally, a frown crossing her face. She was beginning to really hate when he got that look on his face. It was much too appealing and much too devilish to ever lead anywhere good. "We're not here to do the actual casino-robbing, Spike," she groaned as she dragged her feet behind him, her hand now caught in the crook of his elbow as he pulled her along. "We're here to make sure _Ed_ does and that she doesn't get caught-"

They paused at the far doorway, Spike glancing back once more before stooping and examining the lock mechanism. There was a flat console above the doorknob with a card swipe and a number pad beside it. Faye leaned against the wall beside the console, glancing to her side to keep watch as he studied the mechanism, his jaw clenching as he tried to knob. "It's locked," he murmured distractedly.

"No shit, Sherlock. Can you override it?" she asked in a low tone, her green eyes flying across what little she could see of the casino floor from her position. So far no guard had left their post but it would only be a matter of time before one made the walk of the floor.

"I don't think-" he whispered, looking over his shoulder to the head of the hallway once more. And he straightened immediately even as Faye stiffened, their eyes locking on a uniformed guard as he began to pass the corridor. Not even thinking, Spike quickly lifted a hand and placed it to the wall beside Faye's face, blocking her view of the guard and bringing her to look at him in surprise at the sudden movement. Wordlessly, his dark eyes staring into hers, he pressed himself against her, closing the gap between them as he wound an arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

At his touch Faye immediately shoved herself into the wall instead, realizing only a moment later that there was nowhere for her to go with his arm circling her waist quite so firmly. One hand had reflexively lifted to his chest, the other flattening against the wall beside her and she was blissfully uncertain as to which way she needed her body to go. She swallowed, her eyes widening as she found herself abruptly overwhelmed by the scent of Spike, of cigarettes and alcohol. All thought flew from her, her heartbeat stopping in mid-thump, her breath running shallow as he tilted his head toward her.

"You're too stiff," he said softly, mismatched eyes seeming to stare into her very soul. He seemed perfectly fine to be so close to her, his mouth the smallest distance from her own. Even as he spoke to her, every word brought him closer, just the slightest hint of teasing before pulling back. "Loosen up or it won't be believable." And he bent his head, jaw brushing past her cheek as he leaned toward her ear, his breath warm on her skin.

Desperately trying to breathe through a sudden lump in her throat, Faye turned her face slightly toward his, her fingers feeling cold. "It's…kind of hard," she whispered and she forced herself to control her breathing, her head tilting to lean against his. His scent was too much then, her heart racing from mid-stop to full out throbbing. He fit her well, she thought through a haze, a sweet shock darting down her spine. From his hips against her waist to the feel of his chest pressed to hers. She checked the impulse to lift her hand and curl her fingers through his hair.

And then a moment later she didn't care. Why not take advantage of the moment, she questioned wildly, mindlessly. The hand against his chest curled, taking a palm full of his shirt under the gray suit jacket and clamping down. The other hand left the wall to take hold of him firmly, her fingers sinking into his hair and anchoring there. She felt the shiver that went through him when she pulled at the hair along the nape of his neck but he remained silent, his jaw pressed to her cheek and his arm tightening around her waist.

"I'm sorry, sir. Ma'am. This is a restricted area past the restrooms. If you would be so kind…" the security guard called to them from the foot of the corridor and Spike quickly lifted his head away from her, Faye left clutching him with cramping fingers.

"Oh, sorry about that," Spike smiled at the guard easily, mischievously even. "We did get a bit carried away." And he looked at Faye, his eyes penetrating hers, his hand falling away from the wall. "Didn't we?"

Faye remained silent as she returned the look, her lips parted, much too aware of the heat he seemed to radiate. She was certain her cheeks were a brilliant shade of red.

Unwinding his arm from her waist, he slid it slowly out from behind her. And she didn't imagine that it took him a bit longer than it should have taken. Nor did she imagine the trail of his fingers across the small of her back when he finally pulled away. Staring at him, she reflexively moved to lean weakly against the wall but his hand easily rose to her fingers still clamped on his shirt. Expertly, he undid her grip and took her hand in his instead, fingers intertwining with hers.

Her hand loosened from his hair, fingertips sliding across the back of his neck. The small caress brought his lips to part slightly and she froze once more. She wanted to see that again. She wanted to bring him to a stop and throw him the way he seemed to throw her all the time.

Pulling just out of reach of her fingers, he turned his face from hers and began to pull her along after him as he moved back up the corridor. She followed on weak knees, uncertain that they would hold her up once they came to a stop. The security guard waited for them still, his firm stare darting from Spike to Faye and back again intently.

"Sorry, again," Spike repeated with an impish smile as they reached the guard and he lifted his free hand to run it through his unruly hair. "We'll conduct ourselves better."

The guard looked at Faye and she knew immediately what he thought just by the expression that flitted across his face as he observed her.

_Well, if I had a looker like her, I wouldn't conduct myself so well either._

Faye averted her eyes from the guard and after a moment he continued on with one last nod to them. And then she was alone with Spike once more. He watched the guard march off for a long moment, a muscle moving in his jaw. And then he glanced at her wordlessly, her eyes sliding toward his at the same time and meeting his thoughtful gaze.

The blush that had risen earlier suddenly seemed to explode with more heat, an icy shiver simultaneously streaking down her back. "This is why I'd rather you listen to me, you damn lunkhead," she growled at him to cover her embarrassment and she ripped her hand from his, leaving him to blink at her silently. Her inner thoughts screaming at her, Faye stormed out of the corridor entryway, coming back out onto the main floor once more. Back to the jackpots and the crashing sound of money. To reality and what lay before them. She felt the blush in her face still, the heat of the redness in her cheeks and playing across her nose. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she inhaled deeply and then exhaled, wishing it would calm her. Wishing she could think straight. Even placing her hands on her hips and straightening to breathe did nothing to ease the blockage she felt in her heart and throat. Behind her, Spike came up wordlessly and his scent still assaulted her sweetly. But as she glanced at him she found him looking back down the corridor once more curiously. As if nothing had happened. She suddenly envied him his inquisitive nature and memory of a goldfish.

"I really want to check out the bathrooms," he was back to murmuring, his jaw shifting.

Faye sighed inwardly but returned to his side nonetheless, moving to draw his attention away from the hallway. "I suggest we not," she said. "We don't want to drag any attention to Ed until we absolutely need to. If we get their attention too quickly-" The rest of her sentence dwindled away as she looked over her shoulder toward Jet, her words dying in her mouth.

Security had swarmed in around the older bounty hunter and he was motioning in disagreement, a hand coming up to scratch his neck uncomfortably. One security guard merely gestured, stepping aside. And in defeat, Jet moved forward in the direction the guard signaled.

Faye smacked Spike's arm absentmindedly and he turned to look first at her and then at the scene she was watching. A frown crossed his face, his frame instantly stiffening. "That doesn't look good," he said in a wary tone.

"No, it doesn't," Faye murmured in sour agreement. "But it was going to happen anyway." And she began to wind around various colorful slot machines, keeping tabs on Jet and the group of security guards as they began to lead him to the back end of the casino floor. She followed worriedly, Spike trailing her, his presence oddly comforting then. They circled the casino floor expertly, winding to come up in the direction of the back exits and toward another small corridor much like the one she and Spike had been caught in.

"Ed, how's it going?" Spike mumbled behind her distractedly.

Faye didn't bother to listen. The group of security guards separated as Jet moved down the hallway reluctantly, one guard following him. And she waited, turning her eyes aside as the remainder of the guards left to return to previous posts around the casino floor.

"What room?" Spike was asking behind her in a low voice. _"A security console?"_

Holding her breath, Faye took hold of Spike's arm, bringing him to utter a soft, "Hey-" Dragging him toward the corridor, she slowed before it and risked a nonchalant peek in. At the end of the hallway the security guard, standing erect next to Jet's confused figure, swiped a card at the console beside an elevator door. The elevator rang dimly and as Jet turned to the guard questioningly the guard pulled a fist back and sucker-punched him in the face. The heavier bounty hunter staggered from the sudden blow just as the elevator door opened and without hesitation the guard shoved Jet in and allowed the elevator door to close behind the bounty hunter.

Anger sweeping through her suddenly rigid frame, Faye was already moving down the hall before Spike even realized it. Halfway down the corridor, moving on the ball of her feet so as to avoid making noise, she reached down to her thigh as she made it to the guard at the end of the hallway. It was Spike, however, who arrived at the guard first. Even before Faye could say or do anything Spike had taken hold of the guard's head from behind, shoving it forward in one sudden movement. The security guard's face rammed into the elevator door, something cracking in the process, and Spike released him, digging into the man's pockets innocently. A moment later he produced the security card, glancing toward Faye.

Faye merely looked at the guard's body as it toppled unconscious to the floor, her Glock now forgotten under the slip of her dress. "Well, now I know why I take you with me, Spike," she let him know with an approving smirk to her lips as she straightened.

"My wonderful company?" he asked intriguingly. He stooped to take hold of the unconscious security guard, hands winding under the man's arms.

"Your ability to keep violence to a hush," she corrected him. And she immediately moved toward the men's restroom door, holding it open as Spike dragged the guard's body into the bathroom and then across the floor into an empty stall.

Faye waited as Spike propped the guard on the toilet seat and then they both stared at him thoughtfully, Spike's hands lifting to prop on his hips. "I think he looks comfortable. Do you think he looks comfortable?" he asked, glancing at her.

"I think he looks comfortable," she agreed.

Once they were back outside in the hallway, they moved toward the elevator again, Spike swiping the card at the console. The elevator door opened once more after a small hesitation and they quickly entered, turning to the buttons on the side of the elevator. There were four floors available from the elevator. The Lobby, the Casino, the French Restaurant Faye knew to be a floor above. And a blank button. They stared at the blank button then at each other for a long wordless moment. And at the same time they both jabbed at the blank button, Faye making it just under Spike's fingers and throwing the taller bounty hunter an arched brow as he sighed in defeat.

"You gotta be faster than that, Spike," she purred as the elevator doors slid shut on them.

The elevator went down several floors, Faye glancing up toward the camera in the console above the buttons. Beside her Spike didn't look very happy with the presence of the camera either but he merely clenched his jaw and checked for his Jericho inside his suit jacket.

After another moment the elevator slowed and then, as if it were a momentous occasion, the doors slid open. Faye felt an ugly curling in her stomach as she caught sight of Jet in the middle of another hallway, a large man standing before him and grasping him by the collar with both hands. Behind her Spike made a small sound as the man, quite obviously the RepairMan from all his mugshots, slammed Jet into a wall lining the hallway, cracking the bounty hunter's head against the hard surface. Jet stumbled with a muffled growl and that was all Faye needed. She took off instantly, anger coursing through her. This time she didn't care if they heard her. She raced down the corridor and as both men hesitated she threw herself at the RepairMan, landing squarely on his back and instantly aiming a punch into his head furiously.

The RepairMan let out a roar, hunching a bit as her attack caught him in the temple and he swung around violently, shoving backward against the opposite wall. Faye grimaced and then cried out as his weight slammed her into the marble surface, her head ducking against her collar. Pain streaked up her back and along her gunshot wound, her grip loosening and then slipping altogether a moment later. With blurred vision through narrowed eyes she caught a glimpse of green and gray and then Spike spun with a spinning kick, catching the RepairMan in the face with his boot. The man lurched sideways, taking Faye with him, and she was pitched off his back, landing roughly on her side and sliding across the floor with a low hiss. Bristling, Jet rose to his full height once more and he went for the RepairMan, Spike taking hold of the man as well. Roughly, they both shoved him backward against the wall, pinning him there a moment later.

"Geez, you must do some serious weight training," Spike grumbled as the RepairMan struggled against their grip and he pulled a fist back, catching the man directly in the mouth and bringing his struggling to a stop.

"Recognize us, did you?" Jet asked the man stonily, testing his sore jaw.

Faye rose to her feet with a bit of a limp and went to speak, her mouth opening. She wasn't sure what was going on and who knew they were there but they couldn't afford to stay in the hallway the way they currently were. Not when they needed Ed to do the heavy lifting of their operation. "Boys-" she managed to utter.

And then the elevator dinged once more, the doors sliding open. Faye whirled, her bangs coming loose and falling across her wide green eyes as she saw the numerous security guards that filtered out from the elevator. And every single one of them held weapons now aimed directly at them.

Spike glanced over, Jet cursing under his breath at their sudden appearance.

Faye sighed wearily, her shoulders slumping as the RepairMan merely laughed where he stood clutched between the male bounty hunters. "You can't win them all, huh, guys?" he asked them gruffly and he chuckled some more.

His laughter was still echoing when Black Jack appeared from around the corner at the opposite end of the hallway. His face darkened upon recognizing Spike and Jet, his figure slowing only momentarily. "What have we here?" he questioned almost innocently. "Little mice trying to sneak their way into my home?" He glanced toward Faye, his eyes settling on the cuts now visible on her face since her hair had loosened. "Guess we aren't all as invincible as me," he murmured with a cool poker face.


	27. The Terrorist and the Stolen Woolong

**Chapter Twenty-Six - The Terrorist and the Stolen Woolong:**

Jet and Spike released the RepairMan, glaring as he yanked himself out of their grasp. Black Jack slowly sauntered down the corridor from the head, dressed in a dark suit, tie loose around his neck. He glanced from Faye toward his guards coming up opposite him, dark eyes studying the situation intently, warily. Pausing before Faye, he looked her up and down, hands lifting to settle into the pockets of his slacks. "It's a wonderful look for you," he murmured to her and she stared for a moment, her frame stiffening as his look turned into an approving gaze. And then, unhurriedly, he drew closer to her, an arm pulling free of a pocket to wind around her waist.

The memory of Spike's arm there earlier instantly washed over her as Jack pulled her close and his scent resembled Spike's just as powerfully. Cigarettes and alcohol. Those two scents meshed together would always be her downfall, she understood then. But this was not the man she wanted holding her, not like this. Not hip to hip and chest to chest. "Get your hands off me before I break_ every single finger,"_ she hissed at Jack through clenched teeth, her jaw tight.

He leaned into her slightly, bringing his face in close. Faye held her breath as he did so, wanting to recoil from him but likewise not wishing to show just how much of an effect he had on her. But as he came within an inch of her, he suddenly paused, frowning faintly. After another distracted second he slowly turned a glare on Spike, his dark eyes none too pleased. "I smell him on you," he whispered, bringing his eyes back to her once more and from the corner of her eye Faye caught the confused glance Jet sent Spike at his words.

Faye threw Black Jack a smug but very dark smile. How ironic that the very scent he would hate would be almost the same one he would possess. "His scent is the only one I'd ever want on me," she uttered just low enough for him to hear and she didn't flinch when his hand around her waist tightened slightly.

A moment later a gasp caught in her throat as he leaned into her and closed the gap, his mouth stealing across hers. She lifted a hand against his shoulder instinctively, grimacing under his kiss, but she tasted him the way she had tasted him before on the hood of his limousine, what seemed like so long ago. Wild and free.

It was how she thought Spike would taste if she ever stole a kiss from him. And if she allowed herself for that tiny eternity, she could almost believe it was Spike holding her.

Slippery like a snake, Black Jack unwound his arm from her and pulled away, instead moving across her jaw and uttering into her ear as if a caress. "You're very lucky I love you, Faye Valentine."

Faye pulled back then, just the smallest bit. And a moment later her hand lifted and caught him across the face, one sound slap that she was sure had just reminded him of how she felt toward him. "I think," she snarled at him, her green eyes narrowing angrily, "you better remember who you're dealing with. I don't like these little games you like to play."

For a moment he gazed at her, his eyes hooded, his cheek reddening slowly. And then, almost reluctantly, he inched away from her, turning his attention back to his guards and the other bounty hunters. "Very well, then. Back to business. What are you all doing here, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Getting sick to my stomach," Spike replied with a pat to his belly.

Black Jack smiled at him, Faye pulling out of his embrace completely and lifting a hand to her mouth. "I would love to do away with you first, Spike Spiegel," Jack said to the leaner bounty hunter, his smile fading ever so slightly. "For once in your life, wouldn't it be nice to just lay down your gun and fade away?"

Spike returned the smile. And the gesture, the _image_ of the two of them staring at each other and leering sent an icy shiver down Faye's spine and into her heart as well.

"The only thing I want right now," Spike said to him slowly, his smile turning into a smirk, "is a cigarette and a drink. Think you can manage that?"

Black Jack's smile deepened as Faye sighed inwardly. That was all she needed with the two of them. More cigarettes and alcohol for her head to explode.

"Ok," Jet said, finally cutting in between. "This is fun and all but I would love to be able to go home and put some ice on my jaw. Maybe on the back of my head-"

"You're not going home, I'm afraid," Black Jack said to him. He clasped his hands behind his lean frame and bowed his head thoughtfully. "Not until you answer one or two of my questions."

Spike glanced at Jet who in turned managed a grimace.

"Why is the whole gang here? And dressed so nicely, I might add," Jack continued on, looking at Faye once more gently. And he scanned the group, his eyes flying from Jet to Spike and then alighting on Faye's face. "All except little Miss Edward. But then I doubt you would drag her into the fray when you all decide to cut loose."

Faye concealed the wince that threatened to cross her expression, ducking her face away, her bangs falling across her cheek.

"We just wanted to go out for a bit. Spend some money. Maybe make some money," Spike shrugged nonchalantly.

Black Jack threw him a look that showed he believed that story very little.

"We got hungry?" Spike tried again, the corners of his lips twisting, eyes shifting innocently.

"We wanted to win some of _your_ money," Faye cut in, her tone biting, bringing Jack to face her once more. "I wanted to come here and laugh in your face at the fact that you can't get me. That you'll _never_ be able to get me-"

"Faye," the man said to her, sounding contrite. And for a moment he seemed as if he was going to return to her to take her in his arms once more. "I don't _have_ to get you. You came to _me._ You just did the work _for_ me," he let her know. She stiffened, remaining silent as Black Jack did come closer then, a hand lifting to her face. She turned away from him, her eyes closing, and instead he ran a finger down her throat gently, his eyes following the line he trailed. "No matter what," he murmured, his breath warm against the side of her face, "You're always going to be dragged back to me, Faye."

Angrily, Faye shoved his hand away, her green eyes narrowing as she swung her head back toward him. "Don't flatter yourself," she hissed at him, feeling the adrenaline that threatened to rise, her hands closing into fists at her sides. "You should think twice before-"

"Would you rather I just handle you the way he treats you?" he asked and he motioned to Spike, bringing the bounty hunter to frown faintly. "The way every man out there treats you? Because I can do that as well."

And as she glared at him in confusion he easily lifted a hand to her breast.

With a growl Faye thrust his hand aside once more and this time she lunged at him. She could see by the flicker of alarm in his eyes that she had caught him by surprise but a moment later she didn't care as she crashed headlong into him and sent him back and against the wall. Spike and Jet stared for a moment in disbelief but as the security guards swarmed in closer they sprang into action, Jet throwing a punch at the RepairMan, Spike spinning with a kick that knocked an unfamiliar guard into a second one.

There was commotion all around and Faye couldn't bring herself to even notice. She swung furiously at Jack, blindly, all fists and nails. Each of her swings pushed him back a step, back the way he had come but he was faster, dodging her attacks and remaining just out of her reach. And she gritted her teeth, her jaw clenching tightly as he caught her and shoved her back with one strong motion. He immediately followed her as she fell away, one hand darting out to take hold of her by the neck. A small sound came from her before it was cut off completely, her air stolen from her. With a hard glare Jack pushed her back across the expanse of the hallway and she found herself forced to go, his fingertips pressing into the tender spots on either side of her neck through the mandarin collar. Staggering, she was rammed against the opposite wall roughly enough to flinch and then she was hefted up with surprising strength, her feet leaving the ground.

"Stop…struggling," Jack ordered coldly. And around them the hallway grew silent, Jet locked with the RepairMan, Spike recovering from a punch to his jaw.

Faye tried to slip in a breath, her nails digging into Jack's hand as he held her still, her eyes squeezing shut. She couldn't breathe, couldn't focus. Terror swarmed through her at the realization that she hadn't had a chance to take any kind of breath before being shoved into the wall and picked up. Trembling, she merely hung from his grip, her limbs tightening frantically.

And then he released her and she dropped to the hard floor like a pile of bricks, automatically drawing in a deep breath and choking. Hunching over she lifted a hand to her throat, the other holding her close to the floor as a coughing fit overtook her.

"I don't want to have to do that again," Jack said to her quietly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. And he stepped over her legs as she drew them in painfully, turning toward Spike and Jet, his mouth parting to speak. "Now before I was inter-"

Spike landed a punch directly in his face, immediately following with another fist. And with that second gesture the battle ensued once more. Faye scampered backward as guards rushed toward them to join the fight. They were easily outnumbered but there was an easy way to even the odds. Stumbling weakly to her feet and standing on shaky limbs she reached down and took hold of the skirt of her dress, ripping it angrily away from her legs. It tore, winding around in tatters and she tugged at it furiously, glancing about to make sure the guys were still holding out. The skirt ripped and then hung, a long piece of cloth that she tossed away before reaching to the inside of her thigh and pulling free her Glock.

Damn, she was going to miss wearing the dress.

"You guys picked on the _wrong_ bitch," she growled hoarsely and she immediately swung the Glock up, pinching one eye shut. A moment later she took aim and fired.

One guard went down instantly, the round catching him in the back and Jet whirled at the sound, his face paling. Realizing it was Faye he spun back around and grunted as the RepairMan rammed into him and took him down.

Faye aimed for a second, following the flailing limbs and trying to get a good shot but the struggling men were too closely intertwined. Instead she swung the weapon around and let loose once more, a bullet catching another guard directly between the eyes as he whirled toward her. He also went down stiffly, falling to the floor wordlessly.

"Now we're talking," Spike grinned, lashing out with a kick and reaching into his suit jacket at the same time. And a moment later it did him no good as a security guard crashed into him and took him to the floor. "Hey! Watch the _hair_!"

Faye turned, aiming, and she gasped as the guards began to level their own weapons, one already going off. The round burst just past her, causing her to flinch and drop away. And then came the roar of an unfamiliar weapon, one that brought her to lift her head once more after a fearful stillness.

Silence filled the hallway. And Black Jack held a smoking weapon up, facing one guard who merely stared at him for a second before dropping to the ground with a groan. Faye stared, her wrists lifted to press to her ears, Jet and Spike pausing in mid-grapple at the scene.

"I do _not_ recall giving anyone permission here to shoot her nor to shoot _at_ her," Jack said in a very dark tone, his eyes darting around the corridor at his security guards. "You aim at her again and I will kill you just as fast as I did him and then I will come after your families as well, do you understand?"

The guards all stared at him in disbelief at his words, Faye caught by surprise as well.

"Put it away, Faye Valentine," Black Jack said, turning to her and aiming at her with the smoking weapon. "I don't want to kill you. That's not my reasoning."

Faye stared at him for a moment as he spoke to her. Quickly, her eyes darted to Spike on the floor underneath a guard and to Jet who had the RepairMan cornered against the wall. She had taken down two and Jack had done her the favor of the third. Which left only four, including the RepairMan.

Spike was gazing at her calmly from his position on his back. And he didn't have to say it. She already knew what he was thinking just by the look in his mismatched eyes.

_Damn it, Spike._

Slowly and ever so carefully, Faye lowered her weapon toward the floor, holding herself still as she did so.

Behind Jack, Spike suddenly hefted the guard above him, one leg shoving into the guard's stomach and pushing forward. The guard went flying backward, stumbling toward Jack. In surprise, Jack whirled, lifting his weapon. Faye instantly brought her Glock back up and let loose a round, purposefully. Her shot caught Jack's weapon and flung it from his hand, his figure turning to her for a moment. And then the guard crashed into him and they both toppled.

"Let's go!" Spike shouted to Jet, kicking up and back to his feet a moment later. Spinning he lifted his leg, bringing down an axe kick on the RepairMan. The larger man grunted and toppled, Jet untangling himself from the mess of thrashing limbs. With a wild smile, Spike pulled forth his own weapon finally, whirling toward the elevator and firing before even looking. Jet darted ahead of him, heading down the corridor back the way Jack had appeared from. He reared up beside Faye, reaching a hand out to take hold of her arm and yanking her with him roughly.

"Wait. _Wait!_" she shouted at him as he began to drag her. And a moment later she had her feet under her and she rose, allowing him to lead her with his hand on her arm, shooting rounds over her shoulder. Behind them, Spike had taken down another, ducking his head as gunfire erupted from the last guard's weapon. Cursing, Faye tried to aim and her next round caught the last guard in the shoulder, flinging him backward and against the wall.

On the ground Jack disentangled himself from the guard that had been tossed on him and he shot to his feet, searching for his own weapon. Spike spun upon finding himself in such close proximity to the man. And for a moment all he did was glare as Jack came to a stop before him. Then, his leg lifting, Spike caught Jack square in the chest with his boot. With a clenched jaw, Spike shoved the foot further into Jack, effortlessly shoving him backward and trapping him up against the wall.

_"Spike!"_ Faye shouted at him as they reached the end of the corridor. The hallway split into an intersection, both separate corridors leading to darkened staircases at their respective ends. She started, uncertain which way to go even though Jet had already taken a right. "But…Jet, we don't know-" She cried after him, looking from the right staircase to the left. She hesitated, panic turning almost painful as she stood between the staircases, wavering at the head of the corridor Spike was still caught in.

Ed suddenly appeared in the staircase to the right, carrying the ridiculous purse, her white dress smudged. She slid down to their landing and then stiffened at seeing them before her, amber eyes widening almost comically.

Jet came to a complete stop in disbelief at seeing her, Faye frowning past him at the wild-haired hacker. And instantly Faye looked over her shoulder back toward Spike again. He still held Jack pinned against the wall with his leg but he spoke to him, too far away for Faye to hear. She whirled back toward Ed, turning into the corridor Jet stood in and hissed at the hacker. "Did you get it?!"

Ed shook her head mutely, the purse cradled in her slender arms.

"What's up there?" Faye demanded, pointing at the staircase Ed had just appeared from.

A gunshot sounded from the hallway where they had left Spike with Jack and Jet peeked back down the corridor frantically.

"Security console," Ed replied. And she squeaked as Faye took hold of her by the arm and yanked her to the edge of the hallway to glance around the corner with Jet.

Spike had his weapon pointed at the guard he had originally shoved into Jack and the guard was now lifeless, sprawled in a puddle of blood. Wordlessly, Spike turned back to Jack, his face dark, his foot still pressing Jack into the wall.

"You're going up that way," Faye instructed Ed, motioning to the opposite staircase. And seeing that there was no attention currently on them she shoved Ed across the juncture toward the other hallway. _"Go!"_

Like a mouse, Ed scampered across the opening of the corridor and darted immediately up the other staircase, lugging the bag in her thin arms. As she went Faye only slightly noticed that the girl's feet were bare. "Guess what's for dinner?" she stated to Jet with a withering glare. And as he stared at her in disbelief that she could even be considering food at the moment, she replied, "I'll give you a hint. Alpo."

In the corridor, Spike released Jack and spun lithely one last time, his hook kick crashing against the side of Jack's head and knocking him to the floor.

Looking around the corner of the corridor again, Faye motioned to Spike almost angrily. He turned, surveying what was left of the security guards, his eyes ending on Jack's unconscious form at his feet. Satisfied, he turned and raced up the corridor, reaching them in a matter of moments. "This isn't fun, guys," he managed to utter as he turned instantly to his left to go toward that staircase.

Jet caught his arm and yanked him back to the right roughly, growling. "Ed went that way!"

Seeming to be explanation enough for him, Spike nodded and allowed Faye to lead toward the staircase to the right, Jet bringing up the rear. "Did she get it?"

"Not yet," Jet replied curtly and they took the stairway upward, their steps loud enough to bounce off the walls of the narrow staircase.

"Which means, distraction time?" Spike guessed, his face in shadow as he looked from Jet's stocky figure behind him to Faye's curvy one ahead of him.

"We're already in distraction time," Faye said to him as they raced up the darkened staircase, her heart pounding, her high-heeled steps resounding around them. "Now we just gotta stay alive." And she glanced back down toward them. A moment later she nearly stumbled, turning accusing eyes at Spike. "Are you checking out my legs?" she demanded in wide-eyed incredulity, coming to a screeching halt.

Spike practically rammed into her, Jet coming to a sudden stop at the end of the line. "What? No! What?" he asked in confusion.

"You were!" she uttered, sounding awestruck. And she pointed a finger at him in the middle of the darkened staircase, her voice rising in pitch. "Oh my God, you were checking me out!"

With a skeptical sigh, Spike pushed past her, Jet following with a look directed at her. "Is this really the time?"

Falling into step behind the two bounty hunters, Faye couldn't help the mischievous smile that crossed her face still.

They spilled out onto a level, pausing in a luxuriously carpeted hallway and looking around. Wordlessly, Spike pointed ahead of them to a turn at the end of the hallway and they darted down the corridor, taking another right and then examining their whereabouts as they slid to a stop. "Ed said there was a security console around here," Faye began, searching quickly as she stared at several doors lining the hallway they had paused in.

Spike scanned the doors, murmuring. "Exit. Exit. Exit. Restroom. Security!" He pointed and immediately took off, the other two following at his heels as he led. Reaching the door he jumped, a foot lashing out and kicking the door open, adrenaline racing through him. And as they broke through the door they came to a dead stop, Jet's mouth dropping open.

The room they found themselves in boasted a state-of-the-art alarm system and high-priced security cameras. And very unconscious security personnel at their various stations.

"I knew she would be trouble," Faye growled, her eyebrow instantly twitching as she surveyed the damage. And she motioned to the flickering security screens that hissed with static.

"She shut down the security system," Spike uttered, staring at a flashing screen. And he went to a large console, running a hand over the popping and fizzing controls. "Wow. Did anyone else here know Ed was violent?" He asked in surprise, glancing toward his crew.

"Chances are you drove her to it," Faye let him know with a smirk, hands propping on her hips.

Spike lifted a hand to his earpiece, finding it still intact. "Hey, Ed, you hear me?"

"Ed is here!" came her chirping voice through the communicator.

"Good girl," Spike smiled. "How is it looking on your side?"

"Almost done!" she sang.

"Really?"

"Uh-huh! Ed has found _the vault._"

Spike glanced at his crew. "This place has a vault?" he demanded, looking from Jet to Faye and then glaring at her as Faye returned his look quizzically. "As in, we're going to have to carry out actual money?"

Faye frowned at his question. "No, of course not. That's ridiculous. There are systems, accounts. Who would be crazy enough to carry actual money? And besides," she waved dismissively. "Paper and coin currency were only used on Earth. Every other planet uses woolong."

"Ed is transferring the funds now," the hacker let Spike know through his earpiece.

"How much time do you need?" Spike asked her, stepping away from the security console.

"Ed is fine. There's an escape route right here. Can Bebop meet Ed on the roof?" she asked him, seeming absentminded, and he was aware of the sound of several taps on computer keys coming through his earpiece.

Spike smiled and motioned to his ear. "She comes in handy."

Faye and Jet stared at him.

With a small shrug he turned from the console and headed back toward them. "Get in contact with VT," he instructed Jet. And he took hold of Faye's arm and began to drag her, a small sound making it past her lips questioningly. "She needs to pick Ed up on the roof. And we need to make a distraction _now_ so it doesn't go noticed."

"The roof?" Faye demanded as she was yanked but she went anyway, Jet reaching into his pocket for his communicator.

"The roof," Spike repeated with a nod. And pausing by the glass doors leading out into another hallway he stared at a fire alarm lever. Faye stopped beside him, her arm clutched in his grip, Jet already giving VT instructions in the background. Thoughtfully, Spike stared at the alarm, his jaw working. And then he glanced toward his group, his face blank. "We ready?"

"I thought Ed took the security system offline," Faye hissed, looking from him to the fire alarm switch and back again.

Spike nodded and motioned. "ISSP and Fire Department are on a different system. So, asking again, are we ready?"

Jet hung up his communicator and nodded briefly.

Spike glanced from the older bounty hunter to Faye, who was still standing uncomfortably, her arm in his tight grip. She nodded as well, a distasteful look crossing her face. "Just let me go, will you?" she demanded. And as he did so she exhaled before straightening and waiting, her face composed. "Ready."

With a last smile, Spike said mischievously, "Let's blow this joint." And he turned to the console and pulled the lever.

* * *

The news that night declared that an explosion had rocked the Aces High casino. There were no current suspects for the incident but several people reported seeing a young girl with a large white bag creeping along hands and knees in the bathroom, murmuring to herself. Perhaps a terrorist. But the gamblers of the casino doubted it because what good religious girl dressed in frilly white would even conceive of such destruction?

VT had appeared on the roof, flying the Bebop with ease and grumbling about how it was much easier to fly the fishing trawler than a truck. Within moments the hacker had boarded and had been whisked away from the flaming casino, touching down a safe distance to wait for the remainder of the team.

"So…who set off the explosion?" Spike asked as they watched the news on Tomato, wide-eyed.

Ed shot her hand into the air with a squeal, Ein barking at her side just as exuberantly.

"Where the hell did you get the explosive?" he demanded of the hacker even as a small smile curled the edges of his lips approvingly.

"Security console. Spike-person didn't notice?" she asked him, blinking large amber eyes at him. And she giggled as Ein jumped into her frilly white lap with a yap. Quite happily she scratched Ein's furry neck roughly before lifting a hand and yanking the bow out of her head of red hair in relief.

"At least someone in this group thinks," Jet grumbled, his head cradled in his hands.

"What did you guys do while I was waiting for the kid?" VT asked them gruffly and she motioned Zeros over, the cat quite visibly reluctant to enter the room with Ein present.

The group of three bounty hunters paused and looked at each other, uncertain where to begin. And then they all began together.

"Spike set off the alarm and the sprinkler system came on-"

"Faye screeched her head off when we set the sprinkler off. Like she didn't know we were going to get _wet_-"

"Since the security system was offline the water doused the controls and sent the whole electrical unit haywire so the lights went down and the puddles from the sprinkler were electrified-"

"I do not _screech!_ You are such a-_"_

"We had to break down the door to get out onto the casino floor because the water was-"

"And people were going _crazy._ All of them. Screaming. Almost as loud as Faye. Well no, maybe not. But still loud. Like they'd never had a blackout or something-"

"-like chickens with their heads cut off. It was the funniest thing I've ever seen-"

"Are you _agreeing_ with him?!"

VT and Ed listened in rapt attention, eyes flying back and forth between the bounty hunters like ping-pong balls in a tournament.

"And the fire department was there in like…two seconds flat. I was sure we were busted. But then I knocked one of them out. I almost feel bad about it now. It's not like he had it coming or anything-"

"Spike knocked out a firefighter, which was sad because he was _very _attractive-"

"And Spike made Faye put on the gear after we stripped him which sounds a hell of a lot easier than it actually was. That guy must've weighed a ton with all the equipment he was carrying-"

"And then Spike didn't want to get into the uniform. Said it would mess up his hair. I just don't think his hair would've fit under the helmet. So after I kicked Spike's ass I had to fit myself into that stinky uniform. He may have been cute but-"

"While that was going on, the lights were flickering so I think the firefighters were getting something fixed. But then the explosion went off. You should've seen them run-"

"Complete and utter panic. It was beautiful."

"And then I had to drag them out because they were stumbling in the dark. Can you imagine all the woolong we would have made in the dark? With no security cameras working? No one manning the poker tables? It's so sad. But I had a flashlight and an axe-"

"Faye threatened some poor old woman with this axe she had taken off the firefighter and I think she even took her pearls-"

"They look _great_ on me-"

"And we managed to get out in one piece and we saw you on the roof so that's when I told you we'd meet you around the corner of the lot."

"And Bingo was his name-o!" Ed shrieked happily, bringing the story to its end and all of them to silence, huge smiles on their faces as they looked at each other.

VT merely blinked in complete and utter horror, Zeros having made it to her lap and eyeing Ein suspiciously.

"So…is it done?" Faye asked, turning to Ed and lifting a hand to her hair to undo the clips. She smelled like sweaty fireman. A shower would do her good soon enough.

The hacker nodded and shoved Tomato around for them to see. "In the account Faye-Faye wanted," she declared and she pointed to the amount that had been transferred with a slender finger, Ein panting in her own lap.

With a wide smile, her eyes gleefully taking in all the zeroes, Faye glanced at her group. "And they lived happily ever after."


	28. Safety

**A/N:** Ok, fairly short chapter. This is actually the last chapter I've ever sent out for this fic. Last time, it was at this point that the fic was deleted. So next chapter's going to be a new one, lol.

I didn't get a chance to reply to Sophie or Xxps for the simple fact that they weren't signed reviews so I can't reply to those. I hope I got everyone else though. If not I'm so sorry. . For Sophie though, don't worry. The story is actually close to winding down to the end. In a few chapters I get back fully into the entire explanation of who Jack is before ending it. :) Hope that makes you feel better! I also still remark about Spike's hair this chapter but it's mostly Faye making fun of it.

I basically just fixed up the chapter to send out, leaving most of it the same as the original post years back. Hope you guys like it.

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**Chapter Twenty-Seven - Safety:**

In the other room Faye listened as Jet mumbled to Doohan in the kitchen area, her head hanging back over the top of the couch. She lifted the cigarette to her lips, her legs crossed and bouncing in boredom. Doohan had pitched a fit at the prospect of visiting a bank to transfer the funds. To which Spike had mischievously responded that if he refused, he would not get paid for his services. As it was, with the payment for the artillery, Doohan was also getting a hefty tip for his services. She lifted her head momentarily as the whispers fell away and then let it slip back again when they resumed, her eyes closing.

"You nap sitting up now?" Spike's voice drawled and a second later he plopped down beside her, upsetting her balance a bit. She squirmed on the yellow couch, frowning at him as her eyes came open and beside her he was reaching toward the table to a familiar pack of cigarettes. "These better not be mine."

"I don't know whose they are," she lied, shifting her eyes away as she exhaled lazily. "They were lying on the couch when I got here."

He lifted the pack and examined it curiously. And then, with an arch to his brow he looked at her. "Faye, you're the worst goddamn liar I've ever known."

She refused to say anything to that, turning onto her thigh as she bent a leg under her rear, lit cigarette slowly building ash. Propping an elbow along the top of the couch, she brushed back her hair as it jumped toward her mouth, tapping out the ash into the small ashtray she'd placed on the couch beside her.

"You seen VT?" Spike asked her as he pulled out a cigarette for himself and then looked for a match with which to light it.

Faye leaned back once more, bringing the cigarette to her lips. "She took the money and left. Said she'd drop you a line once the money cleared." And she tilted her cigarette to him invitingly.

Spike nodded in acknowledgement and leaned over, bringing his cigarette close.

"Oh, yeah." Faye pulled her cigarette away as she feigned suddenly remembering something and beside her Spike immediately slumped, his unlit cigarette hanging limply from his mouth. "I was meaning to ask what you and Jack talked about."

"My cigarette," he mumbled to her wryly, face hidden by his bowed head.

"Answer me first."

"Cigarette first," he grumbled.

"No."

"Faye."

"Answer me first, Spike, or I put out this cigarette and neither of us smokes," she said threateningly, an eyebrow arched at him.

He lifted his head to stare at her as if she had just killed his favorite puppy. "Anyone ever tell you you're cold? No pun intended," he drawled. As she slanted him a glare he sat back up to lean against the couch once more and said, "We talked about his connection to the Syndicate."

She stared at him. "You're lying."

He stared right back, unlit cigarette bouncing between his lips. "Why would I lie?" he asked her.

"Because you're Spike. It's what you do."

Spike tilted his head at her sardonically, fishing the cigarette out of his mouth and clutching it between two fingers to speak. _"I'm_ the liar, Faye? I am? That's rich coming from you. I'll admit to being a killer. I'll admit to being a bounty hunter. Hell, I'll admit to tax evasion. But why lie? It's more fun to see the look on your face when you can't handle the truth." He paused, observing her intently. "See? You're getting the look now."

A moment later he ducked her fist which glanced off his shoulder. And although he had a smile on his face when he sat back up straight, Faye did not. She stared at him for a long moment as his smile slipped away and she whispered bitterly, "Why can't you ever just be fucking honest?" And with that she put the cigarette out on the table before them, ignoring his small sound of disdain. Rising to her feet, she took hold of the ashtray, tossed it onto the metal table with a clatter and strode off toward her room angrily.

He stared off after her for a moment, hearing Doohan and Jet get quiet as she stomped to her room. A moment later the door swished closed and there was mere silence in the hallways.

A second after that Jet called down the hallway, "Now what did you do, Spike?"

He tilted his form a bit to glance down the long corridor toward the end. "She hit me first!" he shouted indignantly.

"Well, do something! I don't want to hear the two of you argue the whole day!" Jet ordered back down the corridor.

"What? Why?" Spike demanded and he turned to the metal table, lifting his legs to prop them up on the hard surface comfortably. There was no way in hell he was going after that woman. Sometimes silence was a very good thing. She stayed in her room, he stayed in his and everyone was happy.

"Because if you're on her bad side we'll never be able to dip into the woolong we stole from Black Jack! Faye had Ed password-protect the account on top of the usual pin codes!" Jet's voice came back down the hallway with an edge of taunting. "If you liked the beef you got with dinner last night you better work up the balls and talk to her!"

Spike hesitated a nice long spell. Could he go back to bell peppers with no beef? Hell yes. But if he banged up the Swordfish II the way they had before he was going to need that woolong to fix her up. But what were the chances they would wreck the ship like that again? Sure, he banged her up but he took good care of her, normally.

_"Spike!"_ Jet barked, his tone sharpening.

With a growl he stood up, tossing the unlit cigarette aside bitterly, and stormed off after Faye. Jet watched him as did Doohan, the gruff mechanic seeming to roll his eyes. And then the two of them went back to hushed whispers, Jet nodding at something Doohan asked, blueprints unfurled across the kitchen table.

Clenching his jaw, Spike paused before Faye's door, bristling for a moment before rapping his knuckles on it. "Faye."

"Drop dead," came her voice from within.

With a twitching eyebrow he smacked the console and ignored her cry as she sat up on her bed. "I've already died twice and the second time I did, all _you_ did was bitch at me. Do you really want me to drop dead?" Without waiting for an answer he stepped into the room and allowed the door to slide shut behind him.

"I didn't invite you in here, Spike," she said to him crossly but she stretched out on her bed once more, arms crossing behind her head for cushion.

"When did I ever really need an invite, Faye?" he asked her and he moved further into the room, leaning down to shove her legs aside for a seat. The gesture brought her to hiss at him angrily but he ignored it, plopping down at the foot of her bed. "We both know if I came in here in the middle of the night wanting to sleep with you, you'd let me."

Faye opened her mouth to shout at him indignantly but as he slanted a look at her she clamped down and closed her eyes, her eyebrows drawing in. "You don't have to wave it in my face, Spike. Don't you think I wish I had never said anything to you? Damn right I should have kept my mouth shut. It would have saved me a headache and a half."

"And why did you tell me, Faye?" he asked her, prodding her on with a look.

She paused, sardonically thoughtful. "Because I was drunk out of my head?"

He paused as well, his expression clearly reading that he would have to give her that one. "Why else?"

She sighed, falling limp once more on her bed. "Because it did me good." And she clamped her mouth shut once more, refusing to say anything else or elaborate more.

Spike continued to stare at her closed eyes but a small smile curled his lips. "You wanted to know what I spoke with Jack about."

She went still but remained sulky, her jaw clenched tight. "Not anymore I don't."

He faced forward once more at her words, hunching over and propping his elbows on his knees. "Yes or no, Faye? Because once this offer is off the table, that's it, it's gone."

Faye turned her face away, head tilting across her pillow.

With a small nod Spike slapped his thighs and began to rise. "Ok, then, Romani, suit yourself-" And he made a small confused sound as she suddenly sat up and took hold of his elbow, forcing him to look at her in surprise as he staggered slightly.

"Yes, yes, yes, _ok!_ Just spill it already, damn it!" she huffed at him, green eyes narrowed impatiently.

He let that simple smile curl his lips again and sat down once more, twitching a brow for her to release his elbow. "That sounds more like you-"

"Shut up and talk!" she shouted at him.

A humorous expression drifted across his face at her sentence but he brushed it aside. "Ok, well when I got him pinned to the wall I just insulted him at first because…well, he needed to be insulted. I'm not a fan of his swagger or his attitude. You can't run a syndicate with an attitude like that."

Faye stared at him as he spoke, already bored.

"So, I don't remember how exactly I asked him because he has this _very_ annoying strut to him, which was _really_ ticking me off-"

"You realize you're talking about yourself, right?" Faye asked him blankly.

He stared at her. "I'm talking about Jack."

She shook her head at him. "No, Spike, you're _trying_ to make it seem like you're talking about Jack but everything you just said in the last few seconds has described you. Exactly you." And she shook her head at him then, closing her eyes once more. "It doesn't matter, just tell me what was said."

Spike threw her a confused look but continued on after a hesitant moment. "Anyway, I had him pinned to the wall and I said something like, _'Restorative Practice, don't think I don't know what that means,'_ because if you recall, unless the day we read up on him you were very drunk and couldn't remember, that was what he had studied in college."

"Right, you arrogant lunkhead."

"So he kinda smiled, which _really_ made me want to punch him dead in his mouth and he says, _'You would have appreciated my help a few months ago,'_ and I think it was around that time that you weren't looking but when he said that I _did_ punch him in the face. I really enjoyed it, too. Kept wishing I'd loosened a few teeth-"

"A few months ago?" Faye asked him quizzically. "When you had that showdown? With Vicious?"

Spike slowed then, his face becoming grim. "That's what I guess he had alluded to. Actually, wait, my timing is wrong. I hadn't punched him yet. But he mentioned what he did and I asked about myself although I remember now Jet saying he'd had me taken care of. But then Jack said not me. Julia. And that's what he had meant." He paused. _"Then_ I punched him."

Faye stared at him, feeling suddenly heavy. "I see."

Spike nodded. "So, I asked him about Julia, if he had been involved and he said no, that what happened with Julia had nothing to do with him. That the Syndicate had been different once I defected. Went on to insult me so I hit him again."

"Insult you how?"

Spike shrugged, turning from her and leaning over once more to rest his elbows on his knees. "Stupid crap about how it was my fault that she was dead. That I had dragged her into it. And he's right, in the end. It was my fault but I don't need it thrown in my face by every goddamn guy from my past."

Faye sighed. "Or every goddamn guy from _my_ past," she murmured.

Spike glanced at her. "We talked about you, too. About how you knew him and how you had remembered where you had encountered him. From the picture."

Faye looked around quickly. She had forgotten all about the pink photo album. But it was hers. She wanted it now. She wanted that piece of her past back even if it would only ever stare back at her from photos. "The photo album. Where is it?" she demanded.

Spike motioned to the door absentmindedly. "I have it in my room. Buried under dirty laundry."

"You're an ass, Spike."

He smiled at her words. "Maybe, but I can get to the heart of the matter." he said to her cheerfully. And he shrugged again. "That was about it, really. That you remembered him and he just kinda threw me a look, told me to watch myself. And then you guys were hurrying me along so I knocked him out," He splayed his hands. "The end."

Faye chewed on her bottom lip momentarily.

"What do you think?" he asked her.

She sighed at him after a silent moment. "I think you're a horrible storyteller and you should stick to bounty hunting. It's what you're good at. Now get out. You've ruined my mood and I don't want to deal with your shit anymore." And with that she stretched back down on the bed and faced away from him, curling her hands up against her chest.

There was a hesitation from Spike. "Right…I feel like a one-night stand that just went horribly wrong," he said blankly.

"You're a lunkhead!" she shouted at him and she sat up a bit to stare at him as he blinked at her once more. "You're stupid, you don't know how to fix your hair and you have no idea what the hell a woman thinks! How the _hell_ did you ever manage to make Julia happy?" And she plopped herself back down in irritation, grumbling to herself.

He merely sat in silence in the wake of her outburst. And the resulting quiet in the room made her skin prick with electricity, the awkwardness palpable. So she decided to have another outburst.

"I mean, _really!_ You have no idea, Spike! I've told you before and yet you still throw it in my face. Yes, I would let you into my bed if you came in at 3am one night. But not if you came to me going on and on about Julia!" She sat up once more, feeling jumpy and wanting to grab something and shake it to its foundation. "If you run off always in search of something you can't have anymore, you're going to miss everything that comes after, everything that gets in the way. You're running blind right now, Spike, and I don't want to lead you anymore-"

"Then don't lead. Follow behind. What do I care what-"

_"Spike!"_ she screeched at him. And she literally made a grab to choke him. But at his smile she understood that he had been teasing her, albeit maliciously. She sighed and dragged her hands back, shaking her head. "Spike."

He was staring at her. "Faye. I only said what I did because you _asked_ me. You wanted to know what Jack and I talked about and I told you. His connection to the Syndicate. To Julia. And to that…day." He paused, looking away. "I lost a hell of a lot that day, Faye. I left because I was sure whatever was out there would be the answer to everything I had to have answered. But…it's not like that."

Faye nodded to him. "I know."

He looked at her again wordlessly.

She nodded once more, green eyes lifting from her lap to meet his. "I know, Spike. Why do you think I stayed here? Why do you think I'm scared to death of him? Jack? Because he's the past that I don't want to face. I'm safe here, away from him. Away from whatever it is that he _is."_ And even as she said the words she had to convince herself of their meaning, of their implication. "I'm safe here," she echoed dully.

Spike nodded as well. "We're all safe here," he murmured but his tone stated that he didn't actually believe it too much either.

"Yeah."

Spike shifted his face away from her for a moment, drifting into silence. And Faye turned her head to look out her window, to stare at his back reflected in the pane. Tense shoulders and a head of wild dark hair. There had been a time when she had known, deep, deep down, that she was never going to see him and his crazy hair again. His blue leisure suit and skinny chicken legs. And now here he was, sitting on the edge of her bed as if he had nothing better to do. Which he didn't. But he was still a sight for sore eyes no matter how big a pain in the ass he was. And his very presence made her feel secure.

_I'm safe here._

"It's not always going to be safe here, Faye," he murmured then, his shoulders stiff, his face lifted to look at the far wall and the music player. She wondered momentarily what he thought when he looked at her music player. But a moment later he was turning his attention away, looking toward her dresser and then her closet blankly.

"I know," she whispered, bowing her head.

"Which means…" he uttered, breaking off, leg bouncing a bit. As if he had too much energy then.

"Yeah."

"We need to do something about it."

"Yeah."

"So, what are we going to do about it then?" he asked then.

Faye looked at him as he straightened and turned his head to stare at her, his jaw clenched. "I don't know," she murmured, shaking her head slightly. "But whatever it is, I'm with you on it," she whispered in defeat. And she bowed her head at her own words, feeling the coldness in her stomach spread out and wrap around her like an icy embrace. "I'm with you."

* * *

That night, with Ed at her Tomato and Jet finally having repaid all the debts they had accumulated over the last few months, they sat down at last to plot. Doohan was now at work repairing the Redtail and the Swordfish II. They would be picking up the ships within the next few hours. The Bebop's bill was wiped clean, VT having vanished after receiving her reimbursement. Spike stared at the recording over Ed's shoulder, the one depicting the death of the snitch.

One showdown. Just one. One to figure out where they belonged in the mess, where they would be once the mess had been cleaned up. Just one.

"We need you here, Jet." Spike's voice was quiet, his face dark. He turned away from the screen of Tomato and glanced at the older bounty hunter where he leaned against the back staircase. "As much as I want you along, only you can pilot this baby the way she was meant to be piloted. You got the Bebop."

Jet's arms were crossed over his chest, his jaw clenched. "I don't like this, Spike. Don't like it at all."

Faye looked at him wordlessly, hands on hips, her foot tapping the metal floor anxiously. She hated planning. She always had. She used to be able to go in, guns blasting, worrying about everything later or even leaving it to the end. Now, all this planning on how to go in, where to go, what would happen? It was all too much to worry about.

"Me, neither," Spike murmured. He glanced at Faye. "You and Ed will be with me. You gonna be ready for this?"

Faye glared at him, her eyes trailing back to him. "Let that be the last time you ask me that question, Spike," she growled at him. And she settled into silence, wishing that feeling in her stomach would subside. Something was going to go wrong, she felt. Terribly wrong. She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes taking in the goose bumps that had broken out across her skin. She was cold suddenly.

"I need to know, Faye. Don't avoid the question. This is a shoot-'em-up take-'em-down approach. You need to be ready or we don't go." His face was firm, the corner of his mouth turning down slightly.

Faye didn't lift her eyes from her arms. "I'm ready."

He hesitated, his tone coming with a warning. "Faye-"

"I said I'm ready," she snapped angrily. And she lifted her eyes to him finally, meeting his gaze head on. "I'm ready. So let's do this so I can come back here and gamble away his money for the rest of my life."

Spike straightened, his expression indecipherable. And finally, with a nod, he glanced at the red-haired hacker. "Ed?"

"Ed is good to go!" she chirped, replacing her goggles over her head of thick orange hair and sending him a thumbs-up.

Spike smiled. "Ok then, ladies and gent. We're going to hit this place in two days, middle of the night. We're going to walk in, take as many of them down as we can and make our way to the top. Straight to Black Jack, to handle this once and for all. Ok?"

Jet grumbled a bit, Ed's thumbs-up sign still hanging in the air above her head. And when Spike looked at Faye she nodded silently.

"Swell." Spike stretched a bit as if the whole talk had drained him. "In the meantime, what are we doing tomorrow?" When they all glanced at him in question he stared right back in disbelief. "C'mon, guys, this could be our last few days on this…ship. Planet. Solar system. Whatever. We gotta do _something._"

Jet looked at him and then at Ed for a long moment, quizzically. "I say we hit a bar."

With wide eyes in the middle of the ensuing silence, Ed slowly raised her hand as if to ask a question in class. Even Spike and Faye managed to look confused, Ein rolling over in his sleep at Ed's side.

"Do we really care at this point?" Jet asked gruffly, an eyebrow twitching as he lifted his hands to his hips. "It's a _bar_. We ain't getting the kid nothing to drink so they can't say anything. We're hitting a bar tomorrow and that's it." And without a word he spun and stormed off, his footsteps hard on the cold floor of the Bebop.

The hacker hesitated. "But won't Ed be bored in a bar?" she asked Spike and Faye quizzically.

Spike smiled at her mischievously. "We'll try to keep it interesting for you."


	29. One Last Toast

**Chapter Twenty-Nine - One Last Toast:**

None of them had to say anything. They all knew what was going to happen the next night and not one of them wanted to dwell on it. They had chosen a bar on Ganymede, secluded and quiet, away from prying eyes. And it was there that they had a toast.

"Since I know you guys and gals are looking to get yourselves killed," VT opened with a smirk, her cap pulled back over her short hair, "here's to you guys." She held up a beer, one hand propped on her sturdy hip, standing at their table to the corner of the sheltered bar. "Take the ride and don't look back."

Spike allowed a smile to cross his face at her words, Jet looking none too happy about the toast. "Hear, hear." He raised his own beer.

"What kinda toast is that?" Doohan asked gruffly from beside Jet, Miles shaking his head wordlessly on his side in agreement. He and VT exchanged glares for a moment before Doohan tossed back a bit of his drink in honor of her words still. "Here. Move over. I'll show you a damn toast."

Faye rejoined the table, clutching a glass of Venus brandy and beside her Ed was juggling Ein and a small glass half full of liquid that looked suspiciously like water. There had been a problem at first in bringing Ed onto the premises, one that had been complicated further when Spike had jokingly held out his weapon and had demanded money from the bartender. Jet had quickly apologized and brandished a money card with such an amount on it that the bartender had only then laughed at the hilarity of the situation and had allowed Ed in with Ein.

"Venus brandy, hmm?" Spike asked her with an arch to his brow, scooting over slightly as Doohan shoved past him. He rose from his seat, twisted the chair around on two legs and then set it back down, straddling it comfortably. "What would Black Jack say?"

Faye pursed her lips in thought, lifting the hand holding the brandy and extending her index finger to tap her lips. "He would say, _'Faye, it's time to drop that bounty hunter. I'm ten times better.'_" She looked at Spike, feigning sympathy with a twist of her red lips. "And he would be so right."

Spike sent her a withering glare, swishing his beer in his mug.

"I'm making my toast now if you two don't mind," Doohan interrupted them. And when they looked toward him he straightened at the head of the table, lifting his beer and clearing his throat. "Here's to…you crazy sons of bitches. Fly high, fly on and don't crash land in no deserts no more." And with a satisfied nod Doohan took a chug of his drink.

There was a moment of complete and utter silence. "What the…that was the worst toast ever," VT growled at the mechanic, looking put off, Miles now shaking his head in agreement with the female trucker. But then, after another second's thought, VT tipped her beer to Doohan's drink and clinked glasses. "But I'll drink to just about anything right now so hear, hear."

The table chorused the "Hear, hear," once more before drinking.

"Drink up," Faye ordered Ed as she lifted her brandy to her lips.

The hacker glanced at her glass of water with a wrinkle of distaste to her nose. "It smells weird," she mumbled, her amber eyes staring at the fluid suspiciously.

"It's good for you," Faye said huffily. And she threw back her entire drink, earning a whistle from Doohan.

With a small sound of disdain Ed raised the glass to her mouth and took an entire mouthful of water, swallowing before suddenly coughing roughly. "Faye-Faye!" she whined hoarsely.

Faye looked down at the hacker's glass with a haughty look. "Faye. Not Faye-Faye. _Faye._ Say it once. And I expect to see that glass empty in the next half hour."

"A half hour for a glass of water?" Spike asked with a wry smile, his beer bottle raised to his lips. "What kind of challenge is that?"

Faye stared at Ed for a moment longer, the two of them exchanging a silent look that spoke much too loudly. The hacker obediently dropped her head after another reluctant second before lifting the glass to her mouth and, still wincing, taking another chug. She came up for breath coughing once more and Spike's eyes widened as he caught the sudden strong odor of vodka.

"Holy crap, you're kidding me-" he said in stunned disbelief and Faye merely threw him a mischievous smile before heading back over to the bar.

"Edward doesn't _like_ this water…"

"Slow down on that Ed. I don't want to haul your drunk ass home," Jet growled at the hacker and he glared at Spike in irritation. Spike simply motioned toward Faye dismissively before turning his attention back to his beer and the table of friends. "Faye-" Jet called to her over his shoulder but she had gone. And he sighed in defeat as Ed lowered the glass once more, hacking up what seemed to be a hair ball. "Ed, what did I just say!"

"Like one big, happy dysfunctional family," VT exhaled, plopping down in her seat with a clunk and setting down her beer. "So, you boys ready for the wild ride?"

There was another moment of complete silence as everyone blinked at her owlishly.

"Did that sound mildly sexual to anyone else..?" Spike asked in a softly quizzical tone.

Jet sighed once more, tipping back in his own seat. "I'm only going along as backup," he let VT know. He motioned to Spike and Ed as Faye rejoined them once more, carrying another glass of a brandy-colored liquid and a pitcher of beer for the table. "These guys are the ones doing all the hard work."

"I do hard work for no one," Faye let him know as she set down the pitcher between all their mugs. And as three different hands went for the pitcher she smacked at them. "Play nice, boys," she ordered. Straightening once more, she continued, "I work only for myself and sometimes, depending on my mood, not even. It's why I have you guys along."

"So, do you all actually _have_ a plan or is it just a whole, _'Let's see if we can sneak in and not get ourselves killed,'_ kinda plan?" Doohan grunted at them, Miles looking just as curious between him and VT.

Spike gestured to him with his hand posed as a gun. "You know us a little too well, old man," he said to the mechanic.

Doohan merely shook his head at him.

"There _is_ a kind of plan," Faye let them know, bringing Spike and Jet to look at her in surprise. She glanced toward Ed who was leaning toward the pitcher of beer in question and quickly slapped the girl's twitching fingers. "No mixing."

"Edward's mouth is on fire."

"Good." Faye tossed her hair, returning to the subject at hand. "I figured maybe we could go in through the roof. I can't exactly say there are no guards up there but I'm sure we can get Ed to disable a few security programs through that way. Vents and stuff-"

"What would be the point?" Spike asked her, taking a swig of his beer. "If we want to take the fight straight to the man-"

The jukebox in the corner of the bar suddenly blared to life, causing them all to glance over and a young man managed to look embarrassed before making a selection and quickly retreating.

Turning back to her group Faye propped her hand on her hip, taking a sip of her brandy. "Because we can't control the situation if we get caught," she let him know. "At least doing it on our own terms ensures that we can do what we _want_ to do. If we show up to the guy stripped of weapons and in handcuffs then I can't say we have a very good chance of-"

A sappy ballad oozed out of the jukebox, causing them all to glance over once more, this time in disgust.

"Oh, eww…" Faye's mouth twisted in revulsion. "Why would he pick _that_ song?"

"Edward feels funny…" Ed murmured to her in a stage-whisper, her hand lifting to tug at her yellow vinyl weakly. Faye glanced down but looked back up once more as Spike flicked at his mug of beer.

"So you want to go in through the roof…" Spike stated slowly, as if he was hard of hearing. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious," Faye growled at him, her hand wrapping around Ed's fingers to pry her off absentmindedly as the hacker continued to tug. "Besides, his office is higher up in the building. I am not about to walk up all those steps just to get-"

"Long fall," Jet murmured and they looked at him for a second, brought to silence. The older bounty hunter merely shook his head and then lifted his beer. "Here's to the guy who started us off."

Faye glanced at him then at Spike in question.

"The snitch," he let her know and he leaned forward to clink beer bottles with the other bounty hunter. "Jet, you ok there? Nice words from the guy who wanted to pump the prick for information then send him to sleep with the fishes."

"No," Jet stated shortly, shaking his bald head. "No, I didn't. I wanted to pump him for information and then send him away for a nice bounty." And he looked from Faye to Spike, his eyes hooded wearily, the sweat drop practically hanging down the side of his face. "Why didn't that happen again?"

"Because Jet-person _liked_ Snitch-person!" Ed shouted suddenly, yanking her fingers free of Faye's hand and causing the female bounty hunter to start in surprise. The hacker erupted into peals of musical laughter, plopping on the floor. Faye looked down at her at her, Spike leaning forward and whisking the glass of alcohol out of the girl's hand as she curled up into a ball and abruptly rolled away, whisking Ein off with her. The group watched her go for a small moment.

"See what you did, Faye?"

_"What?!"_ Faye demanded. And she pointed emphatically at the hacker as she rolled under a table and on, Ein panting in her embrace. "That girl is going to _love_ me for the next hour, you just watch."

VT raised her beer mug once more, acknowledging the toast. "Never knew the guy but what the hell. People die all the time, usually doing shit that they shouldn't have been. It's life."

"It's Spike's fault that he was doing things he wasn't supposed to be doing," Faye let her know under the cover of sipping her brandy and she felt Spike's glare slide her way. She ignored it, shrugging to herself, and took the small drink.

Ed rolled back their way, passing along by their table and continuing on her merry way. The group watched her in keen interest for half a moment before turning back to their table and drinks.

"So…the roof," Spike said thoughtfully. He tipped his mug on its edge and spun it in a lazy circle, his mismatched eyes caught on the liquid as it swirled a bit. Faye studied him for a long moment, chewing on a piece of ice silently. Before them Jet looked from her to him and back again, uncertain. And he stared at Spike as the younger bounty hunter murmured, "I can do the roof."

Faye glanced at Jet briefly.

"Ed, how do you feel about going in through the roof?" Spike called over his shoulder to the hacker as she bumped into a wall. Ein let out a confused whimper at their sudden stop but then was appeased as the hacker began to roll back toward them.

"Edward likes the roof," the net diver said with a mischievous if slightly deranged chuckle as she rolled by. In her arms Ein panted, cradled up like a plushie and cheerful to be moving once more.

"And if Ed likes the roof, we're good to go," Spike nodded.

Jet lifted a hand to his bowed, bald head. "Ed has the blueprints anyway. We'll look them over, try to see which exit is good to use, try to find some outlets or whatever to jack into and…" He hesitated, glancing at Spike once more.

"And take it straight to the man," Spike finished. He nodded again silently, as if thinking to, and agreeing with, himself. "Are you ok with that plan?"

Faye started when she realized he was talking to her. "Me?"

"Yeah, you."

She blinked, clutching her glass tightly but she still felt as if she could easily let it slip right from her grasp. She wondered for a moment how loud the crash would be if she let it fall. "Yeah, I'm ok with it," she mumbled and she looked away, frowning slightly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because if we don't do this exactly right at least one of us will probably die," he let her know in a matter of fact tone. And he stopped twirling his mug, holding it tilted with his index finger and staring at the liquid intently.

Faye didn't bother looking back. Yeah, she knew it. They all knew it. Why couldn't he ever afford her a goddamn rhetorical question? "Well someone's going to die anyway. We just have to decide whether it's one of us or him. I'd rather it be him. How's that for feeling ok?"

"Music to my ears," Spike replied and he lifted the mug and drained the beer without another pause, chugging it as if it was water to a thirsty man. And all around him the group as one lifted their drinks and then did the same, Ed giggling in the background as she hefted Ein up in the air.

* * *

The world was hazy and wonderfully warm. And for some reason, life was funny. Faye burst out laughing, Jet chuckling behind her as well as he finished, "Well, how was I supposed to know she swung both ways?"

"Jet, you're an ass," she sighed and she stopped, looking down to maintain her balance. Maybe that last shot of tequila had been a bad idea. She squinted at the hard floor of the Bebop as she stumbled into the main room. "Were these steps always here?" she asked quizzically, very well aware that she had slurred the second half of her question.

"Mmm…" Jet also looked down with her, Ed bent over his stocky shoulder quite unconscious. "Yep."

"Really?" she asked again, frowning. She really couldn't remember ever coming down these steps at all. But oh, there was the yellow couch she loved so much. She took one step carefully and a moment later Ein suddenly happened into her path. She instantly staggered, catching herself against the railing to avoid stepping over the data dog. For the slightest moment she almost believed she was still falling as the world spun around her. Then Spike entered the common room behind Jet and she looked from him to Jet, her hands wrapped around the railing. A second after that she burst into laughter once more, shaking her head. "I'm so drunk."

Jet agreed with a grunt, motioning her down the remainder of the stairs. She took the rest of the steps slowly, Ein staying out of her way, and finally hit solid floor again. Trudging wearily, she slowly made her way to the couch.

"We might need to wait a day before we hit up Black Jack," Spike sighed, squeezing past Jet as the older bounty hunter also stumbled the slightest bit on the steps. Slumped over Jet's shoulder, Ed hiccupped, her frame twitching before settling once more. "Maybe hitting a bar was a bad idea. I think we all overdid it. How much did she have to drink?"

"A whole lot of vodka…" Faye sighed as she plopped down on the yellow couch tiredly. She waved a hand dismissively, her other arm bending over her head to block her eyes from the light in the common room. "But I had the bartender dilute it. She's _fine_…"

Jet came down the steps, coming to a stop beside the yellow couch. "Faye, move."

"I don't want to."

The older bounty hunter bristled, Ein letting out a short yap at their exchange. "Faye, move. I need to put Ed down. Go to your room and sleep it off."

A low moan came from underneath the arm. "But I'm so comfortable-"

There was a clatter of noise from the steps they had just left and both Jet and Faye turned to look quickly, Faye lifting her head from the couch. Spike stood uncertainly at the foot of the steps, looking much too innocent for his own good. "I'm fine. I'm not drunk at all," he stated firmly, straightening.

"We didn't ask," Faye said to him with a slight arch to her brow before leaning back down, the arm returning to her eyes. There was no way, no matter how drunk she was, to miss the slight tinge of red coloring his cheeks but at the moment the couch was much too comfortable for her to follow up.

Jet turned his attention back to Faye and the yellow couch. "Faye!" he barked at her. And then, without bothering to wait anymore for an acceptable response, Jet tipped Ed over off his shoulder and directly on top of the female bounty hunter.

"Hey! What the _hell?"_

Ein shifted, bouncing out of the way as Faye shoved the hacker off her and onto the floor with one firm hand. The sound Ed made as she hit the floor was enough to make even Spike wince. But as they all bent to examine the girl, Ein sniffing fearfully, she continued right on sleeping, her slender shoulders rising and falling peacefully.

"M-maybe she has a concussion now…" Faye murmured, green eyes wide, leaning over the side of the yellow couch.

"She didn't hit her head. She hit her face," Jet said to her brusquely but he also crouched beside the hacker to study her warily.

Still face down, snoring lightly, the hacker giggled abruptly before settling once more.

Faye shrugged inwardly and began to stretch back out on the couch. Jet's hand shot out and wrapped around her arm suddenly, a tight hold with a vice-like grip. She made a small sound as he yanked her up easily, her legs dragging across the couch as she was hauled up. "What the hell is _wrong_ with you-" she demanded.

A moment later she had her feet under her frame, her legs refusing to hold her up. Without a word, Jet shoved her into Spike who barely caught her and he snarled, "Go to your room and sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow." And to Spike he motioned toward the corridor where their rooms were. "Get her out of here. I need to make sure Ed wakes up clear-headed."

Ed snapped up at the mention of her name, amber eyes hooded, mouth hanging open. She blinked wearily at first Jet and then Spike and Faye. But when none of them moved, she slipped back down to the cold floor wordlessly, Ein whining faintly in her ear. "It's ok, Ein. Edward is awake…" she sighed to the dog sleepily.

Jet sent Spike one last glare before hunching over and hauling Ed up once more, depositing her on the couch. The hacker merely rolled over onto her side, curling up as Ein wagged his stumpy rear. Then with a small hop the data dog jumped onto the couch as well, throwing Jet a curious look.

Jet's stare withered. "Only because you're watching over her," he said to the dog gruffly. "Tomorrow you go back to sleeping on the floor."

Ein quickly settled without another sound, sending Jet puppy eyes.

"Ok, let's go," Spike said to Faye with a sigh. And he merely wrapped his hand around her arm, pulling her after him.

"I can walk," she grumbled at him as she stumbled behind, her lips pouting slightly.

"Good for you. But can you cross the street like a grown up?" he countered as they entered the corridor, heading toward the bedrooms. She meant to glare at him at his remark but as her eyes slid up to his back, she merely allowed her eyes to hover there. She decided she liked the lines of his tall frame. Lean shoulders under a straight-cut suit. Long arms. An almost delicate line to his neck under the wavy hair.

Yes, she most definitely liked the way he looked tonight. The way he looked every night. She wondered how he would look on top of her in the light of the moon coming in through her window.

The hallway was cooler than the common room but at the same time the coolness was a relief in her intoxicated state. She inhaled deeply, pushing away the thoughts circling in her head. She wasn't surprised she was thinking along those lines. Alcohol did this to her, every time. Her eyes closing momentarily to take a deep breath, she was not shocked when she stumbled over her own two feet.

At her side Spike sighed impatiently, yanking her closer to his side. "I'm not exactly sober myself," he snapped at her, the slight redness still tinting his cheeks and nose. "If you fall you'll take me with you. So try to walk straight."

Reaching the doorway to her room he tapped the console with his fist, waiting as the door swished open.

Faye glanced into her room, catching her familiar scent from it and she sighed happily, pulling free of Spike and flowing in. It was dark and perfect then, her room. Just the place she needed the most in the world. Hopping almost deliriously onto her bed she giggled in relief and then leaned back on her palms, legs crossing over the edge of the mattress.

"See ya," Spike said almost instantly and he was already moving to leave when Faye called after him.

"Hold on a sec. Stay. We need to talk."

They didn't need to talk. There was nothing to talk about that night. But she wanted to try something that would only work so long as she was intoxicated. She would lose her nerve any other way.

Spike hesitated at the door, turning ever so slowly on his heel to face her once more. "Um, one, no we don't need to talk. You're drunk, I'm fairly drunk myself, and chances are tomorrow we won't remember a word we say if I hang around," he stated and he lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, inhaling deeply. "Two, those really are the last words any guy ever wants to hear. Bad things happen after those words leave a woman's mouth-"

"Shut up and get in here," Faye sighed at him, motioning with a weak wrist.

There was a slight pause from the male bounty hunter. Then, knowing he would regret it, he dropped his hands from his eyes and entered the room. Tapping the console on the inside, he waited as the door slid shut behind him. And she saw the expression flit across his face as he glanced toward her. The expression stating the fact that he knew he would regret it. But he still remained. She didn't know what to make of that.

"Make it fast, make it good," he said to her shortly, arms crossing over his chest.

A secret smile curled to life on Faye's lips. "Typical man," she murmured, staring at him brazenly.

Spike paused, observing her for a very long moment. His mismatched eyes darted down her face, from her eyes to her lips, to hover over her teasing smile. "If you brought me in here just to flirt…" he said to her with a slight warning in his tone. And he turned and leaned against her wall, one leg crossing over the other comfortably. "Give it your best shot."

Faye stared at him in surprise, words failing her for the slightest instant. She had expected at least a bit of a fight from the bounty hunter. "Wow. Are you really that easy?" she asked him with a tilt to her head.

A smile also deepened across Spike's face though he remained silent.

Faye leaned forward a bit with a soft sigh, bending over just enough to give him a perfect view of the tops of her breasts. "Well, hate to burst your bubble, cowboy, but I wanted to talk about the plan for tomorrow," she purred and her smile turned coy.

His eyes darted down to her chest for a thoughtful glance before slipping back to meet her own stare. "Shame," he murmured quietly, his eyes distant. And he leaned his head back against her wall. "What about the plan?"

Faye's smile widened, exhaling wearily. "Aw. You really are that gullible," she said as if she found it adorable. And she rose to her feet slowly, gazing at him.

She noticed the instant he grasped what was about to happen. His frame stilled, stiffening, his dark eyes fixing on her keenly. She had his attention then and she felt a small cheer ring out in her head. "This is about to turn into a bad idea," he said almost inaudibly, arms falling away from his chest, legs uncrossing. As if getting ready to fight.

Faye laughed faintly. She loved it. She loved the expression on his face, as it went from wariness to straight blankness. "Always hiding," she said to him unhurriedly, drawing closer to him. "I had you going for a second. Flirting back. What happened? Give it but can't take it?"

Spike exhaled noticeably, a small muscle moving in his jaw. "Don't push it, Faye. You're not that good-"

"No," she agreed in a murmur. "I'm _better_." And now she was directly before him, highly aware of his scent. Cigarettes and alcohol. Her mouth practically watered as she inhaled deeply of him. He didn't move as she did so, his neck stiff, head bowed toward her as she came to a stop. Even now, as she gazed at him, her eyes shifting from his gaze down to his parted mouth, she could detect the smell of alcohol on his breath. Some of the brandy he had stolen from her glass while Jet had berated her for giving Edward too much to drink. The smell of beer. The last round of tequila shots Doohan had gotten them. They all mixed together there before her along with the scent of his last cigarette. She leaned toward him, lifting her head, reaching only for that scent.

Spike held himself still, not moving toward her and yet not moving away. And it had nothing to do with the wall at his back, she realized. He could have pulled his head back away from her. There was the slightest space between him and the wall since she had gotten him roused warily. He just wasn't moving.

"Show me what you got, Spike," she murmured to him, feeling warm and languid. Free. Her skin felt alive, prickling as if a current ran underneath her top layer. And she felt irresistible then. As if there was no man on the Earth or anywhere else in the solar system who could refuse her. "All those times, parading around like hot shit," she said softly, her lips barely moving, her eyes trailing from his eyes down to his mouth. "This could be the last time we're even on this ship together, at the same time. So let's see it."

Spike opened his mouth as if to speak, his expression betraying the slightest bit confusion. But then he settled once more, his eyes staring straight into hers.

Faye waited, her gaze caught on his face, on the frown that was appearing on his forehead. He was silent, almost deathly so. She stared at him for another long moment, attempting to operate through a heavy haze, through intoxication. She wanted it. Just one night. Because ever since they had decided on their plan, she'd had a bad feeling come to life at her core about what was going to go down. What if this was it, then? The last one?

_"Maybe this is the one I won't come back from. The end."_

"Would you rescue me if it were true?" she asked him softly, echoing his words from that day that seemed so long ago.

Spike's eyes focused instantly, glaring at her.

Disappointment slowly clouding her face, Faye stared at him for another breath, green eyes darting back and forth between his different colored irises. She had said something wrong to him. She could feel him literally pull away, his presence. Even as she tried to hold onto him, to keep him there with her, he was pulling away.

With an inward breath she reached out to the side, slapping the button on the console. The door slid open with a gentle swish, beeping faintly as she kept her hand on the button shakily. "Yeah," she murmured at his cold expression. And she lowered her hand away, backing up a step. With a dismissive thumb, she motioned to the door. "Get out, Spike."

She had barely turned when she heard a hard sound behind her. Whirling around once more, she stared at him. And then her eyes darted to the hand he had jammed into the console button, his face dark in her room. For the smallest eternity she felt fear prickle inside her for a split second, her breath hitching in her throat. And when he left the wall she took a step back, her haze dwindling into cold hard sobriety. He looked like he was ready to kill her and she wondered fleetingly if there was a chance for her to turn tail and run.

Instead, she felt a bit of attitude curl up inside her, suddenly rearing for a down and dirty fight because there was nowhere for her to run. Not with him blocking the doorway. It was how she had always pictured any kind of emotion in their relationship. Either it would have been a loud tumble in bed or a brutally physical brawl between them. "Now you're going to show me who's boss?" she questioned, aware that she took another step back as he came to a slow stop before her, his frame rigid with pent up anger. She maintained her glare as he fixed his eyes on her and she did it, she _said_ it, because she knew it would make him hurt the way she did then. "I'm not Julia, Spike. She may have taken your shit but I'm sure as hell not. So you either do what you have to do, what you _want_ to do, or you can get the hell out of my-"

He took hold of her, one strong grip that she knew would bruise terribly in the morning. And she made a small sound as he yanked her, shoving her around to push her against the wall where he had just stood a moment before. She slammed into it, the sound resounding through the room, her breath ripped from her. And even as she opened her mouth to yell at him her limbs were already drawing in with pure adrenaline. She lifted her hands to lash out, one fist swinging automatically. He easily recoiled out of reach, her fist passing within an inch of his face. A moment later he took hold of the flying fist, his fingers clamping around her wrist. Her jaw falling open, Faye flinched as he swiped at her other wrist and took hold of it as well, stilling them at her side and leaning into her as she flailed heatedly.

"Shut up," he growled at her quietly from a hairsbreadth away as she reflexively turned her face from him, panting. He whispered it against her ear but the anger, though still on his face, was fading slowly. He stared at her as she glanced toward him out of the corner of her eye, his fingers tight on her wrists. "We're drunk. Both of us. You talk too much, I listen too much and I can't take either one right now."

Bristling, feeling trapped, she realized a moment later that was enjoying it, the entire exchange. She enjoyed knowing that this was the only way to live life when it came to him and she felt a slight rebellious streak shoot up through her. "Then shut me up," she countered, quite aware that her mouth was just out of her control now. It felt wonderful to just let it run on. Every word that she wanted to say would only anger him further, push him to be more physical. But she wasn't sure she wanted to fight with him anymore. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do with him then. All she knew was that she had a tremendous amount of pent up energy, enough that she could've run marathon upon marathon. She wanted to laugh and let go at the same time, to melt against him and kick him out simultaneously. And all of it through a warm, fuzzy pink haze. "Go ahead, Spike," she hissed at him and she turned her head to face him once more, bringing herself close enough that they now shared the same air. "Like you said. I talk too much, you listen too much, and you can't take either one." Her green eyes were dark in the dim light trailing in from the light outside. All her senses were muffled, her form feeling lazy and yet defiant. Every word she spoke seemed to bring her closer to him for as long as the sentence lasted and she wanted that closeness to last the entire night. "So let's do something else, something that doesn't involve talking or listening. Shut me up or get out," she whispered. And when he merely looked at her, his expression turning somber, she closed her eyes. She didn't want to see his Spike Expression. It reminded her too much of that day he had left. But at the same time, even as she almost believed he was gone once more she caught that scent again, cigarettes and alcohol, and she leaned into it thoughtlessly.

He didn't pull away, his fingers tight around her wrists, when she pressed her forehead to his. Through the drunken haze, aware that he was holding himself quite rigidly, she tilted her head slightly, wanting to inhale all of him, wanting to _feel_ all of him. His skin was smooth against hers, his brow furrowed, and she yanked a wrist free, latching onto his suit jacket. It felt different in her grip as she pressed ever closer to him, coming so close that she felt the heat of his skin. Pulling the other wrist free she draped it around his neck, aware that he was attempting to hold himself still, his hands hovering just over the curves of her hips. But the attempt was feeble. As if he too was confused about what he wanted to do and where he wanted to be. She felt the heat coming off his hands as if he had touched her, feeling it radiate just the slightest bit off her hip. "C'mon, Spike," she murmured, never feeling as close to him as she did then. "We're only getting this one chance. By tomorrow, we could both be dead."

His jaw was clenched, teeth slightly bared through parted lips. She pulled on him, dragging backward against the wall and he staggered from her efforts. His hands lifted, pressing to the wall on either side of her and her grip on his shirt tightened, hauling him closer, close enough that he stumbled into her. He hadn't turned his face from hers but he wasn't making the effort to close the space either. Tilting her head, her nose passing against his, she breathed his air, her arm around his neck curling further. And with one more yank he was pulled against her, hip to hip, one hand slipping to grip her waist instinctively to maintain some form of balance.

Wildly, no longer caring what he said or what he wanted, Faye took hold of the suit jacket and yanked it, feeling it come open in her grip. His lips tightened into a firm line, his frame shifting from the strength of her movements, and she unwound her other arm, pulling it down to take hold of the jacket as well. Wordlessly, she pulled the leisure suit open, straining to draw the jacket off his shoulders and for a moment he almost seemed to fight her, one hand on her waist, the other still propped against the wall. Impatiently, she shoved the hand on her side away, jerking the suit jacket off his shoulders and to his elbows. His scent rose from his clothes, his head bowed, eyes closed tightly as she looked at him. And she didn't understand the expression on his face. Confusion, mixed with something that resembled pain but not quite. A frown crossing her brow, she rid him of the suit jacket and tossed it aside carelessly, hearing it flutter onto her floor but not caring. His hand returned to her hip, fingers clamping down roughly, and she wondered momentarily what he was thinking, what he was feeling. But the world was spinning wonderfully, her heart pounding loudly in her ears, the darkness of the room reaching to envelop her. Strange things happened in the dark, she mused with an inward smile, relishing in her freedom of inhibition. It was one of the many reasons why she enjoyed drinking. Clear-headed, she would never have even laid a hand on him.

Blindly, slanting her head and reaching for him, she lifted her hands to his shirt, running fingers over the row of buttons holding it shut. Her back straightened against the wall as he leaned into her, wordlessly pushing into her, his other hand rising to grasp her arm. She pushed it aside, fingers digging into his shirt and taking hold of the material achingly. The shirt disappeared into the waist of the pants and she hauled the shirt up, out of the waistband, reaching for more. And then, a moment later, she pulled at the shirt, wanting to tear it apart. She didn't care what was left of his clothes in the morning. She would buy him a damn new shirt if he put up that much of a fight about it. The shirt fell open as she yanked, cloth parting, the buttons ripping from feeble threads as she jerked it open. And as she drew her hands in, she traced smooth skin over lean muscle, her fingers curling around his neck as she leaned her head.

She wanted to know what his mouth tasted like.

But as she leaned into him, he seemed to draw backward, his fingers still tight on her waist, pushing into the tender skin just inside of her hip bone. A small sound made it past her lips, needing more, wanting that little bit more but even as she reached for it, he pulled that small bit of him out of reach.

And she understood in that moment that she wasn't going to get that taste of him.

Tilting her face, her forehead still pressed to his, she understood that even if she reached for more, he was going to keep himself just out of touch. Her heart pounded almost frantically in her ears, her fingers drawing in, nails trailing down the side of his shoulder almost remorsefully as she began to draw back. And even as anger threatened to rise inside of her, anger at her stupidity and anger at him for being himself, she reached blindly to her side, slapping her hand against the wall until she found the button of the console.

The door slid open once more softly and she felt him stiffen against her, his lips parting just within reach of hers.

Swallowing through a sudden lump in the throat she uttered, "Get out."

He hesitated as if he didn't understand. But she held herself still, her hand dropping away from him, the other one pressing down on the console for another second before also falling to her side.

"I said get out," she echoed dully, her head bowed against his but no longer reaching.

In the silence of the room, chest heaving, Spike remained for one more moment. Then, erratically, he tore from her as if a current had gone through him. She let him go, feeling him take the heat away and feeling suddenly cold to the touch, icy clear through to her center. She didn't open her eyes but she heard him as he yanked his shirt closed with one hand. Stooping fluidly, he swiped his suit jacket off the floor and then stormed out of the room without a backward glance. A moment after that, his fist came down on the console outside her room and her door swished closed with a final hiss.

Outside the room, Jet came to a sudden stop as he passed by the doorway, the corridor much too silent.

Spike also halted, his face dark. And even as the older bounty hunter merely stared at him, he growled, "Don't ask." With that he turned and disappeared down the corridor toward his own room, vanishing inside of it like a wraith.

* * *

Inside her room, limbs shaking, Faye remained standing for as long as she could. Then, wearily, she allowed her legs to buckle and she slid down the wall slowly, knees bending, rear coming to rest on the floor. And as she embraced her bent knees, she bowed her head against them and let herself rest tiredly.

* * *

There was silence. So much of it. Too much of it. Faye sat up in bed, feeling as if she swam. She hated when that happened. It meant she was dreaming. And she knew she dreamt so why the hell couldn't she wake up from it?

A hand trailed down the side of her cheek, delicately, slowly, and she couldn't see in the darkness but she recognized the scent as an older one. Familiar but as if she had caught it once in a dream, another life. She strained to see and she could make out the outline of a slender man sitting beside her. She couldn't see in this light, why was it so dark-

Suddenly she was lounging at the edge of the fishing trawler, legs dangling over the side, the cool Ganymede breeze rolling over her. The sun was in the sky and she was blinded for a moment as she passed from darkness into light. Beside her she frowned and then stared as Jack Spade dropped his hand away from her cheek, his hair blowing in that breeze. But he was young and beautiful, a kid like her. She looked down and saw that she wore a simple skirt, and her hair was a bit longer, bangs fluttering around her eyes.

"Do you remember?" he asked her softly.

_"I remember. I remember who he is. Where I've seen him before."_

"Do you remember?"

"I don't know you," she whispered to him sadly, shaking her head faintly. "I never have-"

And he lifted that hand again, his boyish face settling as he smiled at her gently. That male college student. She had been a bit younger than him at the time. She stared at him as he traced her cheek and a moment later he shifted, his jeans and t-shirt melting away into a dark suit, his face taking on a few lines, losing that last bit of weight that characterized youth. She gazed at him and was confused when she felt tears rise in her eyes, was lost when she felt a feeling of yearning come down upon her.

"I never knew you…" she said to him painfully, her voice lost in the Ganymede breeze.

"He won't love you," he whispered to her, drawing closer still. "Not the way-"

"You will," she finished for him. And he was right. As she looked down once more, as she saw the skirt fade away and the classic yellow vinyl ripple into being over her figure, she believed then. "He won't love me the way you will. The way you have."

He nodded once, wordlessly.

And Spike's voice, straining to be serious, to be comforting perhaps. She could never tell with him anymore. Never had been able to. His voice echoed around her, hovering over the both of them even as Jack gazed at her solemnly.

"_I'll piss you off. I'm not saying I won't and I'm not saying we'll be the best of friends, but I won't stop you if you want to go back-"_

She closed her eyes, clenched them tightly. And she felt the tears fall, roll down her cheeks as she merely breathed in Jack's scent, catching a bit of Spike in that faint breeze. But even as she went to respond, as she went to say something with tears in her voice as well, the world darkened and she snapped awake in her room, stiff.

At the door, leaning against the frame, Spike rapped his knuckle against the metal of the inside console, his face grave and indifferent. As if everything that had transpired before had been solely in her imagination. And maybe it had been. She stared at him sleepily, her skin tinged with slight perspiration, her head muggy. But when he knocked once more, a bit louder, she closed her eyes, already nodding as she knew what he was going to say.

"Time to rock and roll."


	30. Mission: Improbable

**Chapter Thirty - Mission: Improbable:**

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**For Girl Without a Planet:** Sorry I couldn't reply to your review since you weren't logged in. But I appreciate the review and I'm very happy you're digging the story. Ty for the kind words! :)

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It was dark. And Faye believed quite firmly that from then on it would always be dark. She checked the Glock again, wondering if she was going to need it. If she was going to need it past the one bullet she planned on putting in Black Jack. She had been pacing for a while, anxious, full of energy with no outlet. She glanced to her side. Beside her Spike was silent, staring at Tomato with an expressionless face. His eyes skimmed the screen as Ed pointed and explained to him where they would be going, where this exit led, where they might run into trouble. He nodded periodically, still silent, arms crossed over his chest. Jet sat on the ugly yellow couch, staring up at the ceiling, uninvolved. He didn't need to know what the blueprints looked like. He would be of no help at this point. He just needed to be where they needed him to be. Faye bowed her head, staring at her Glock and yet not really seeing it.

_Am I scared..?_

Spike lifted a hand to cover his mouth as he exhaled, lost in thought for a moment. And then he leaned forward and asked Ed something, motioning with a slender finger. And Faye watched him out of the corner of her eye before turning her face to him and staring at him straight out.

_Who are you doing this for?_

Jet on the couch. Ed at her Tomato on the metal table. Ein at her side, asleep in a different world.

_Who are you doing this for?_

Even as he spoke she couldn't make out what he was saying. From two feet away she couldn't make out what he was saying. Couldn't make him string a sentence together to make sense in her head. She felt something in the pit of her stomach, in her cold heart. She didn't know what. And then it didn't matter for Spike straightened once more and looked at her, his face stony. She felt her eyes lift as she followed him to his full height, her eyebrows drawing together. Did he hate her for what had happened earlier? Did he want nothing to do with her now that they were both sober? His face was grim, his eyes somber. Almost like that day he had left her in the corridor to finish what he'd had to do. Did he regret coming back? And especially to this? She stared at him, uncertain whether she would be able to take anything he said then.

"Piece of cake," he said to her, shrugging.

With a twitching eyebrow, Jet rose to his feet, sighing deeply. "Then let's get it done," he growled. And he hesitated, his glare alighting on Spike and remaining there for a long moment. Then without another word he turned on his heel and marched off, nodding slowly.

Faye looked off after him, silent. She didn't know what she had expected from Jet. But she had expected more than that. At least a glance would have been nice. She merely bowed her head as Spike poked Ed in the back and motioned for her to pack up her laptop. Ed did so, her gestures seeming slow and deliberate, Ein slowly rousing as she moved. She watched them for a long moment, feeling again that she didn't want the hacker involved. Didn't want her to come along. "What if something happens?" she asked quietly and she hadn't been expecting to say it aloud but now that it was done she couldn't take it back.

"If something happens…it happens," Spike replied. And he floated off in the opposite direction Jet had taken, his head falling forward wearily.

Faye let him go, staring blindly after him as he shoved his hands into his pockets, disappearing down the back corridor. Her eyes shifted toward Ed as the hacker packed up her stuff and smiled brilliantly at her. But she couldn't muster a smile to return to her. Even if before she had never been one to smile at the hacker, to want to comfort her, at this point she just physically _couldn't_. She was numb inside, feeling as if her frame was just too much for her to support by herself.

_I'm safe here_.

The hacker skipped off ahead of her, Ein barking and racing off at her side. But then, with a sudden realization Ed screeched to a halt, looking down at the dog in hesitation. "Ein can't come with Ed this time," she said to him quietly and Faye watched the exchange, her eyes widening slightly as the hacker knelt beside the data dog. "Not this time," she said again, reaching out and patting Ein cheerfully across his head, the data dog whimpering. "But next time Ed will take Ein and show him _everything!"_ And she splayed her arms wide, Faye wondering how her thin arm could heft up the suddenly heavy looking laptop as if it weighed no more than a pillow. With a giggle Ed swiped Ein into her free arm, crushing the dog to her chest and muffling his whine.

_Not this time._

Setting the dog down with a last look Ed rose and floated off after Spike, making a zooming sound. Faye trudged after her, her gaze coming to rest on Ein as she reached him. The dog panted at her with a wagging tail, watching her almost expectantly. She paused for a slight moment and then, arguing with herself, she bent and reached a hand out to the dog. With a momentarily confused snort, he paused in mid-pant. And then, slowly, he inched toward her and sniffed her hand. Faye waited patiently, her hand held out, fingers cupped palm down. With a final sniff, he consented, pushing his head into her palm. And her face saddened as she brushed her hand over his smooth head, scratching him behind the ear. She had never given herself a chance to really pet him, really treat him like he belonged to them. She did so then, focusing on petting him and smiling inwardly as he gave himself over to her caress.

"Next time," she promised him quietly and she rose even as he whimpered at her, glancing back in the direction Jet had gone.

_Next time._

* * *

"Let's kick it into gear," Spike said to her over the console communications. Behind him, as Faye looked toward his Swordfish, she caught a glance of Ed gazing into her Tomato, her face lit by the screen.

Wordlessly, Faye started up her Redtail and the engines let loose an exhalation of smoke, slight at first and then revving up but in no way competing with the Swordfish II as Spike booted up. He said something, sounding far off and Faye didn't catch it over the sound of the hangar doors clanging open slowly.

"You with me?" he said to her clearly. She brought her eyes to meet his through the communications screen questioningly. "I need you a hundred percent or we don't do this, Faye."

"I'm with you," she replied in what she hoped was a firm voice. And as he looked at her blankly she said it again. "I'm here. One hundred percent."

With a momentary pause beforehand, Spike nodded at her and then turned his head and she knew he was looking toward the doors, perhaps even questioning what they were about to do.

"Spike-" she said, realizing she needed to say something. Something to break the awkwardness she felt hanging over her.

Spike glanced back down at her image in his communications console.

"A-about what happened…earlier," she began, her eyes shutting tightly. She hadn't exactly thought up any kind of apology and now she was kicking herself for not having done so. But she never apologized for anything. And she didn't want to apologize for this. Most guys _liked_ an overeager woman-

"What happened earlier?" Ed was asking quizzically in the background of the communication, her head popping up over Spike's shoulder to peer at Faye curiously.

"Faye tried to take advantage of me," Spike responded in an offhand tone as he flipped switches on his console. Steady flame burst from the engines of the Swordfish as the ship came on.

Faye growled angrily. "Oh my _God_…" she uttered in disbelief.

Ed's normally wide eyes widened all the more as she delivered a toothy grin. "Advantage of Spike-person? _Faye-Faye! _Ooh, la-la!"

Feeling the need to ram a fist into the screen housing the image of Spike, Faye slumped backward in her seat. And a moment later she raised her head to the glass seal of her cockpit to watch the Swordfish begin to turn slowly, facing the hangar doors. She looked back toward her controls but Spike had already cut the communication. And from the corner of her eye she saw the flames coming from the Swordfish's engines shift from a brilliant red to a cool blue. Without any sign, the Swordfish suddenly shot down the landing, taking off and out into the night sky. She lifted her head, watching it disappear and it was still a beautiful sight to be witness to once more. Her thrusters came online then, bringing her attention down to her console. A beautiful sight, she mused again, feeling a small smile curl her lips though she still wanted to deck the leaner bounty hunter in the mouth. Her own ship lifted into the air, almost clumsily as she glanced down at the console once more. With a deep breath she faced her ship forward and followed off after Spike, sweeping out of the hangar and not looking back. But she felt inside that, from the trawler, Jet was watching them go.

* * *

They touched down on Mars a few hours later, Spike silent throughout the entire trip. She couldn't blame him for his silence. She hadn't been in the mood to talk throughout the entire ride either, her stomach feeling bottomless and cold. In the darkness of night they waited, Spike going over the plan with Ed once more, Faye listening through a cloud. And then, pinpointing where Black Jack's business was yet again, they lifted off, heading toward it.

Within a few minutes they hovered quietly over the large skyscraper, Spike staring down intently. The walls of the skyscraper extended up an additional two stories measuring by glance alone. Looking up after a thoughtful moment Spike stared directly at Faye and then motioned over to the smaller building across the street from the skyscraper.

"Why?" Faye asked him, flipping on her communications screen.

"I have a feeling that there's a security system in the building that extends to cover that roof," he said to her, his head turning toward the building in the communication. "If we land these ships I don't want to trigger them. So we might need to use your ship to get close to the building since you have a remote for it. I can't control the Swordfish II like that." And without another word he shot toward the smaller building, rearing up and lowering it to the roof of the building expertly.

Faye followed him, her Redtail touching down with an exhalation and she waited, not bothering to turn the engine off. "We're not all going to fit in here," she growled under her breath as Spike lifted the seal off his ship and Ed popped her head up into the night. With a shake of her head she watched the two of them hop out and head toward her. "We might need to rethink this plan," she said to him over the quiet hum of her engine as she undid her seal.

"You want to rethink this plan _now?"_ Spike demanded, coming to a complete stop. "You couldn't tell me you were getting cold feet before we left the damn ship?"

"I didn't say I was getting cold feet," Faye snarled at him, a frown crossing her forehead. "I said we might need to rethink this plan because we're not all going to fit in my damn ship." And once more, under her breath, she mumbled, "Asshole."

"I heard that." With a twist to his lips he gave Ed a hand and tossed her into the back of the Redtail. She went wordlessly but with a small, "Ooh," and scampered in to make enough room for Spike, her arms clutching Tomato to her chest. "Don't bother," he waved at her. "I'm riding on the outside. It's right across the street."

Faye followed him with her eyes, waiting for his version of the plan. "What, you want me to just fly us on up there and hope we don't set off the alarm just by touching down? If there's a security system I'm sure it'll detect us _and_ our ships."

Spike nodded, reaching out and grasping an edge of the Redtail. Glancing down he lifted himself onto one of her cannons, checking his footing on the outside of the ship. "There's two ways we can get in through the roof. Both are open latches right above the elevator shafts. Then there are two other shafts that let out a bunch of steam and heat, you saw them. And there's a laser field on the roof."

Faye's jaw dropped open. "Huh?"

Spike shrugged at her expression. "No big deal. The lasers cross over the shafts and I'm guessing it's pretty sensitive. So we need you to fly the Redtail and let us down straight into the elevator shafts."

Faye blinked and then shook her head at him, at a loss. "How do you even know there's a laser field? I didn't see a laser field!" And with a tightening to her eyes she grumbled, "This is _not_ going to work..."

"You didn't smell it?" Spike asked her and as she opened her eyes once more to glare at him he tapped his nose. "Ozone."

She felt her expression wither.

"Now come on and get us over there. This'll be a piece of cake." He reassured her absentmindedly and with his free hand he shut the seal on her retort and grabbed tightly to a ledge on the side.

Grumbling quietly Faye lifted the Redtail into the air once more and swung it about, making sure he was still holding onto the side before shooting over and up. They climbed several floors, Faye avoiding the walls but keeping close. At this time of night there was no activity going on in the building and very few lights on throughout. They passed the 28th floor and Faye was relieved to see that the lights were off in Black Jack's personal office although the relief was short-lived. They wanted to take the fight straight to him. If he was gone for the night this whole expedition was pointless.

Cresting the skyscraper Faye glanced about quickly and then flew as Spike pointed toward the middle of the roof. She came to hover over a bare shaft and glanced down, gulping a bit. She could see straight into the building, no red lasers in sight.

"Bring it down a bit," Spike mouthed to her, motioning with an index finger. She did so, slowly lowering the Redtail, aware that he was digging into his pocket with one hand and holding onto the side of the Redtail almost lazily. She waited as he pulled out a pair of shades, blinking upon recognizing them. The shades the Snitch had worn. Seemed someone had fixed them for Spike to use once more.

Spike's feet left the surface of the cannon, dangling freely over air for a moment. It was at least a ten foot drop from the edge of her ship. She doubted he was going to just hop off-

He released the edge he held with his fingertips, falling out of sight. Panic streaking through her, she lifted away from her seat, pressing a hand to the glass to look out. Below, Spike had grabbed hold of the edge his feet had rested on, his legs now only a few feet from a precarious beam running across the very top of the elevator shaft. She bit back a curse and closed her eyes, not wanting to see. Beside her Ed pressed to the window and looked down, seeming much too excited. "Ooh!" she cried and she lowered her goggles over her eyes, pointing with a slender finger. "Look, Faye-Faye, look!"

"I _am_ looking," she growled. "And I don't want to see-"

Ed yanked off her goggles and pressed them to her eyes, motioning down with a tilt to her head. "Look!"

Glancing down with a frown, she realized she saw the red lasers through the darkened goggles. "Infra-red?" she questioned in sudden interest. "Ed, you sneaky girl."

The hacker giggled evilly.

Below, Spike gauged the distance for a moment, gazing down and finally he released the ledge and landed squarely on the concrete beam, balancing himself out in between two direct lasers. Glancing up he motioned for her to open the seal and she did so only after Ed nudged her. Growling she shoved the seal open and leaned out a bit. "Ok, so now what, genius?" she demanded as Ed pulled back her goggles.

"C'mon, Ed," he said instead, ignoring Faye and gesturing to the hacker.

"Spike-person wants Ed?" the hacker asked him, interest piqued.

"Yup," he said to her. "Give Faye the laptop and then slide out. I'll catch you."

Faye didn't bother to say anything to that. Even if she didn't think any of it was humanly possible, Ed had all the trust in the world for people. Without a word Ed saddled her with the laptop, replacing her goggles over her eyes. A moment later she sprang out, grabbing the bottom ledge and letting her legs dangle. Spike reached up and grasped her legs, catching her as she slid down into his arms.

"Nothing to it, right?" he asked the hacker and Ed smiled, nodding cheerfully. Faye watched the both of them grinning goofily at each other and growled under her breath.

"That was fun!"

Spike then looked up, a small secret smile crossing his own face as he lifted the shades from his eyes. "Ok, Faye. You're next."

"Drop dead," was her curt response.

"Been there, done that, not tonight. Now come on. Hand me the laptop."

Faye hesitated, glancing down over the edge of her Redtail. He really wasn't that far down. The only problem for her was that damn shaft that was gaping widely under him and the red lasers she could no longer see. She leaned out a bit and held the laptop out with her left hand, feeling its weight drag her down a bit. He reached up, grabbing the edge and quickly handed it to Ed who took it wordlessly. And then he raised his eyes back up to her knowingly.

"Uh-uh."

Spike's expression went heavy. "Yes. Let's go."

"I don't trust you."

"I don't trust you either!" he cried in disbelief that they were having the discussion then and there. "And yet here we are! Stop being a baby and let's go."

"That is a long way down and I don't trust you to-"

"To what? To catch you? Give me a break, Faye. I need the three of us for this. Why would I drop you?" His eyes drooped a bit in exasperation.

"I can think of tons of reasons, cowboy," she threw back at him but with a sigh she began to slide out of her seat, resting one foot on the ledge and then the other. Turning and lifting her rear from the seat she grabbed hold of the edge of the seal with her left hand and bent her knees so that she could reach out and grasp the ledge her feet rested on with her right. And then she lowered one leg down into the air, sliding her hand down along the seal to follow her descent.

"Drop the other leg, you're good," Spike called to her.

She closed her eyes and exhaled, wanting to give him a good verbal lashing. But she did as he said and a moment later she felt his arms wind around her calves then slide up toward her knees.

"Don't get any ideas," he mumbled against her as she slid to hang from her hands alone, grasping the edge of the Redtail.

"I'm not," she snapped at him, feeling a blush rise at his words. If he even _mentioned_ what had occurred earlier between them she was prepared to kick him down the elevator shaft. "Trust me."

"Ha. That's a long shot."

She finally released the edge and slid down into his arms, wobbling a bit as he settled her onto the beam beside him. She held onto him for a moment longer, gazing at him from up close and for a second too long they stared at each other, silently. An instant later they broke away from each other slightly, immediately looking away. Unfortunately, looking away meant peering down against her better wishes and Faye grimaced as she saw nothing but dark gloomy shaft beneath her. She groaned along the back of her throat, quickly righting herself stiffly on the beam.

"Quit whining, we'll be fine." He released her and glanced down, crouching slowly. Reaching out to balance himself with one hand he stared down into the shaft, a frown creasing his brow. "I think this is a freight elevator," he murmured, more to himself than Ed or Faye. He leaned a bit into the shaft, his mismatched eyes searching the inside of the corridor. "Ah, there we go. Perfect." Glancing back toward them, he pointed into the shaft, motioning a bit to the left. "Ed, see that?"

Ed leaned over toward him with wide eyes.

He pointed to several metal edges protruding from the inside wall in the dark corridor beneath them. "We're going to climb down those ledges to that first elevator door and that's how we're getting in. Sound good?"

"Yup!"

Faye lifted her hands to her hips in disbelief. _"What?!"_

Scooting around Spike, Ed began to hand him her laptop but Spike stared at her, a small smile breaking over his face. "Slow down there, cowgirl!" He shook his head at her as if she had just insulted him and brushed her aside. "Let a real man show you how it's done."

Faye threw her head back and growled in exasperation at the night sky.

Now winding carefully around Ed Spike lowered himself completely to the beam and sat down, leaning over across the shaft and reaching to grab onto another beam about two feet from the one he straddled. Slowly, he rested his weight on the other hand and lifted his leg up and over, easily lowering himself down between the two beams.

"Hey, just so you know," Faye called down to him as he swung his legs forward a bit and lodged them into the ledges for support, "I'm not doing that." And she crouched and swiped the glasses off his nose when he glanced back toward her.

Ed giggled and crouched, strongly resembling a monkey in the way she rocked forward a bit on her feet. She watched Spike as he inched forward and then finally reached out with one hand, taking hold of a ledge to flatten against the side of the shaft. Once secure against the wall he brought his other hand down to grasp the ledges and glanced back up at Faye.

"Nope."

"It's a piece of cake," he said to her.

"Edward next! Edward next!" Ed cried and Spike barely had time to climb down a few steps before she propped her laptop on her head and let herself hang down after him, scooting along by the strength in her arms alone. She reached the wall in a second flat and giggled once more evilly. "Ed likes this game."

Faye lifted the shades, putting them on and twitching her nose to settle them. As she looked down she became aware of the red lasers once more as they became visible to her, examining them. Then she slowly sauntered over all the way to the edge of the beam, careful of the lasers, her hands lifting to cross over her chest for a moment. Then, with a sigh, she crouched carefully, stretching her legs out and allowing them to hang over the edge of the beam. Ed scooted down a few steps, pushing Spike down also in the process and she painstakingly lowered herself, lodging her feet in and then reaching out to take hold of the ledge. "Wouldn't it have been easier on you guys to just have climbed down from the edge?" she asked cynically.

"Easy?" Spike tsk-tsked the notion. "Who wants anything to be easy?"

"Not Ed!"

Faye grumbled under her breath as the three of them slowly began to make their way down the ledges, glancing up after a second toward her Redtail. "Go," she commanded into her bracelet and with a breath of smoke it wavered before lifting upward and shooting back to join the Swordfish II. With an inward sigh she continued her downward climb, careful of Ed beneath her.

After several moments Spike hesitated, nudging Ed's foot to let her know she had to stop. He ran a hand over the side of the shaft to his right and Faye realized then that they were beside the closed doors that led to a floor, a stop on the freight elevator's route. "I didn't bring any tools to open these doors…" he murmured quietly, digging his fingers into the shadow between the closed doors. "And these are shut tight."

Above him, Ed released one of the ledges of the ladder and dropped her laptop into the free arm, balancing it in the crook of her other elbow as she flipped it open. "Ed will open," she said to him reassuringly.

"Ed. This is why I keep you around," Spike said to her in a falsely affectionate voice.

Faye frowned down at them. "I thought you had to be jacked in or whatever to be able to use your laptop in here," she stated crossly.

"Freight elevators aren't security," Ed said to her as she navigated the workings of her Tomato. "Freight elevators are-"

"Maintenance," Spike said for her in understanding.

"Ding, ding, ding!" Ed exclaimed gleefully. And she pulled up folder after folder of blueprints, setting off numerous password prompts. "Ed will be in, in juuuuust one sec-"

"Think you can get in faster?" Faye asked impatiently. "I can't say I like hanging here like a pig on a stick."

"Pig on a stick?" Ed sounded absentmindedly bemused.

"Just hurry it up."

Spike continued to shove his fingertips in between the two closed doors, perhaps under the mistaken impression that the doors would part and open with the force of sheer will alone. And then, after several moments of waiting and prying, the doors squealed and slowly began to open, soft light spilling out from the dim lights in a very sterile corridor. Spike peeked in, eyes flying around the hallway and then he glanced up toward Ed, flashing her a thumbs-up sign as she cocked her head to look down at him.

"Can we get in already?" Faye demanded.

Spike smiled and swung a foot out, wrapping around the edge of the elevator doorway and sliding in effortlessly. Ed snapped shut her laptop and propped it back on her head, also lithely swinging onto the cold floor. And then, climbing down, Faye followed after them, lowering herself to the floor and quickly stepping away from the gaping doorway.

"Shut it again. I don't want that thing staying open," Faye said to Ed with a small shiver as she took off the shades and handed them back to Spike.

Ed nodded, pulling down her laptop and tapping a few keys. After another moment the doors slid shut once more and the three of them found themselves at the head of a silent corridor, one that strongly resembled a hospital hallway.

"Ok, Ed. Where are you jacking in?" Spike asked her as the hacker stepped forward a few steps, her amber eyes flying about intently. And then she lifted her eyes straight to the ceiling and Faye didn't even want to know.

"Please no."

Ed silently pointed up slowly to a vent in the ceiling and Spike also lifted his head, surveying the vent quietly. Taking a step forward he stared straight up, examining the bolts that secured the metal netting to the ceiling and wordlessly he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small switchblade, snapping it open.

"Ed will boost up Spike-person!" the hacker volunteered immediately and she was suddenly in a squatted position, laptop balanced preposterously on her head, her fingers joined to give Spike a lift.

Spike threw a look at her. "How about we do this the other way? I'll boost you up and _you_ unscrew those bolts for me?" he suggested.

Ed thought it over for a moment, standing straight once more and lifting a finger to her chin. "Um, ok," she decided and she came close as Spike fell into a crouch, motioning for her to give Faye the laptop. The hacker did so and then made a small sound of cheer as Spike gestured for her to climb onto his shoulders. Once she was situated comfortably he stood and hoisted her up toward the netting. Ed reached down for the knife, accepting it from the taller bounty hunter and set to work unscrewing the bolts quietly.

"We're all supposed to get up in there?" Faye asked with a wrinkle to her forehead.

"Now, now, princess," Spike said to her wryly, balancing Ed above him. "We'll try not to get your pink gown dirty-"

"Shut up, Spike."

A bolt fell and then Ed was reaching to another corner, getting to work on that one. Faye stooped to pick up the bolt, tapping her foot impatiently as Ed finished the second and then moved to the third. Within a few moments she had the four of them loose and was lowering the edge of the netting, peeking up into darkness above.

"Dirty…" the hacker murmured down to them. She slid the netting in to lie along the inside of the vent and she lifted her hands, grasping the edge of the vent and hoisting herself up easily. A moment later her noodle body vanished into the vent like a scurrying monkey and was gone. Spike cocked his head a bit at the vent, listening, and then whispered, "Ed. Is there room?"

"Hai!"

Faye grumbled under her breath but as Spike took a step she shoved her way forward, motioning for him to help her up. He did so with a roll of his eyes and she was lifted up, able to peek into the vent to see Ed inside and seated with her legs crossed, waiting for them. She reached a hand out to the hacker and the hacker braced herself as Faye jumped up and began to squirm into the vent, kicking at Spike below even as he tried to help her. Within a moment she was stretched out beside Ed on the vent, waiting on Spike. He, in the meantime, hopped up and easily lifted himself in, hoisting up his feet and tucking them into the vent after himself.

"That's enough exercise for me," Faye let them know.

Wordlessly, Ed glanced around the vent and then opened up her Tomato once more, tapping a few keys and bringing up the blueprints of the building. "Bebop is here," she announced to them, pointing to a corridor on the 42nd floor of the entire design. "Circuit board is here!" And before Spike or Faye could even get a look in she shut the laptop, propped it on her head of wild hair and scurried off down the vent quickly.

Faye and Spike looked at each other in the dim light for a moment before sighing together and scrambling after her, heading off into darkness.

They caught up to the hacker after a turn to the left and then a turn to the right preceding a long corridor. She sat cross-legged once more before a panel of circuits, her goggles giving off a light and illuminating too much technology for Faye to stomach. Ed already had her laptop plugged into the wall, her fingers flying over the keys as she stared straight ahead, working silently. "What does Spike-person need?" she asked Spike as he and Faye caught up to her.

"We need to know who is in the building and where," Spike replied.

Ed glanced down briefly at her keyboard and then right back up to stare ahead, seeing screens and prompts fly before her eyes. "Heat signatures," she mumbled more to herself than either Faye or Spike. "Security-persons patrolling lobby, those are red dots. Maintenance-persons and cleaning-persons are blue dots. See?" and she pointed ahead at the wall as if Spike and Faye could see with her into her goggles. But on the laptop itself they saw what she was referring to; several different colored spheres moving silently along what seemed to be blueprints. She hit a key and the blueprints shifted floors, complete with its own signatures, some white and some black.

"Go to 28," Faye commanded.

Ed leaned over the laptop and did so, the pages shooting by until they landed on 28. And sure enough, there on the screen was a blue dot where Black Jack's main office was located accompanied by two black dots, both inside the main office, one red dot standing at the doorway of the office.

"How does this damn thing tell the difference between security and maintenance?" Faye demanded. "And what were those other colored dots? In white and black?"

"Different levels of security," Ed answered, "according to what they're in the system under. White dots are medical-persons…" And even the hacker sounded confused at that. "Black dots are high level profiles."

"Medical?" Faye echoed.

But Spike was leaning toward the laptop, pointing at one of the two black dots. "I guess one of those would be Black Jack?" he asked Ed.

Ed tapped a few keys and then trailed a finger along the mouse pad to hover over a black dot. Sure enough a snippet of the security profile came up listing the dot as Jack McCullough. Ed trailed her finger over to the second dot and that brought up the profile of Kazuo Matsuda. "BlueFrag," she mumbled, turning a bright shade of red even in the faint blue of her laptop. And continuing on she paused over the red dot at the door and that brought forth the profile of one Robert "Scat" Robinson. The RepairMan.

"The group's all there," Faye said with a twist to her red lips.

Spike seemed to be lost in thought. "I think…we can probably take them but I don't know about being able to get any info out of Black Jack. If we get in there it's to hit them hard and fast. I don't know anything about the security system, what's rigged where and what sets anything off and just looking at these blueprints doesn't really tell me anything anyway."

"Then what's the plan?" Faye asked him and she unconsciously checked her Glock.

Spike mulled it over momentarily, tapping his fingers to the vent floor. "I guess we could have Ed shut off security cameras and power from the 29th floor on up so we can sneak down to him without being followed by eyes and then…just storm in."

"Sounds fabulous," Faye mumbled wryly.

Spike looked like he agreed. "Ok, Ed. Do your worst." And he waited as Ed began to pull up the files of blueprints.

* * *

Matsuda Kazuo stared into his laptop, a small frown marring his brow. "McCullough-san," he said slowly, tapping several keys with a lazy finger, seated on top of a lovely cherry wood desk. He had no need for chairs. They were usually confining to him.

"Nani, Kazuo," Black Jack replied absentmindedly, flipping through several papers on his own desk with a clenched jaw. His affairs weren't in order the way he had asked. Which meant someone was about to get either fired or disposed of, depending on the offending person in question. And here he thought he would get a chance to finally go home for the night.

"We have company," the hacker stated. And as Black Jack turned to him the Asian boy looked back at him with piercing blue eyes knowingly.

His own eyes widening a bit at the words, Black Jack lowered his papers to the desk. "Then let's be courteous, yes?" And he came toward the hacker with a small smile curling the corners of his lips.

* * *


	31. A Glimpse of Black

**A/N: Hey guess what people? I'm moving! Yay! LOL.**

**For all the people who have followed me throughout the years with this story, they know when I move it's a bad thing because fanfic falls to the side. But not this time seeing as how I'm only moving a few miles away and I'm keeping the same job. So hope you enjoy the chapter, have a happy, happy Memorial Day and hope the weather stays lovely!**

**Chapter Thirty - A Glimpse of Black:**

* * *

_akari wa shizuka ni shiroku some yuku machi no naka _

_kimi ga mita saigo no kisetsu iro _

_namida wo otoshita genjitsu to wa zankoku da ne _

_kimi ga mita saigo no kisetsu iro_

* * *

_The brightness quietly colours the inside of the town white_

_You saw the season's final colours_

_A tear falls, reality is cruel, isn't it?_

_You saw the season's final colours…_

_**- Ain't Afraid to Die – Dir En Grey**_

* * *

The second the lights went out, Faye knew it was going to be a bad idea. The faint light that had trailed them was suddenly gone, sending them into pitch blackness. And for several moments they sat there in that darkness, all thought flying from their minds collectively. All they had was Ed's shining laptop and the light emitted by her goggles.

Then, as if sparked into action by a live current, Spike said, "C'mon, we're not going to have much time." And he shoved past Faye and headed back the way they had come down the vent.

Cursing, Faye turned in the small space to follow him and she heard Ed behind her scrambling before the light of the laptop was cut off. Then the light from the goggles followed her, bouncing around the metal walls of the vent and she could see Spike far ahead of her turning the corner and vanishing.

Upon catching up she caught sight of Spike as he slipped down into darkness and she knew he had found the opening they had entered the vent through initially. Peeking out, Ed right beside her as the hacker caught up, she whispered down, "Spike!"

"Come down!" he ordered from the darkness. Ed trained the light down and they saw Spike, blinding him momentarily in the spotlight. He waved at Faye and she quickly spun around to drop from the vent feet first, Spike catching her and setting her down before reaching up for Ed. "C'mon, ladies, I don't have a lifetime here," he grumbled at them, his frame stiff with impatience.

"Yeah, you keep squandering all your chances," Faye threw at him in a stage whisper as he quickly lowered Ed down.

Once on solid sterile ground Spike pulled Ed's goggles off her head of wild hair almost rudely, training it down the hallway and sweeping it across the walls. It trailed over a dim exit sign and Spike took off instantly, leaving Faye and Ed to catch up with surprised cries.

"No time, let's go!" he called back to them and he slid to a stop beside the exit to a staircase, hesitating for the girls to catch up. Then, with a small smile hidden in the darkness he burst through it, happily coming out onto a landing and sweeping the light across the stairs. "I love this part of the job," he said and he hopped down an entire set of stairs, winding about and hopping down the other set to complete the flight in a matter of seconds.

Faye tried to catch up, landing on the mid-flight and sliding, Ed ahead of her flying down the rails. "I bet you do," she called after him, following the light he flashed around and hoping to keep up. They took each flight the same way, Spike's lithe body moving fluidly, Ed almost floating. Crashing on a landing several moments later they slid to a stop, breathing hard, and Spike flashed the goggles at the sign next to the doorway of the flight. "Thirty one," he said to them as Faye came to a stop and hunched over. "Should we go down to-"

Above them, red lights suddenly began to flash, illuminating them to each other at last. Faye straightened, Ed clutching her laptop to her chest and Spike lowered the goggles at his side, lifting his head.

"Shit," Spike uttered in the sudden silence. And the word seemed almost too loud then, almost blasphemous. Without another word Spike tossed the goggles to Ed, who caught them on the fly with a sound of surprise. And he scrambled down the next set of stairs, hopping down easily and forcing the two girls to catch up once more in confusion.

"What's going on?" Faye demanded as she followed after them. "Spike, will you _wait_ a sec-"

"Now we really have no time to stop and chat, Faye," he cut her off, sliding along a mid flight and tossing her a look over his shoulder. "See those red lights?" He motioned overhead with a slight twirl of his finger quickly "Yeah, that'll soon be followed by-"

A high pitched siren cut the air, forcing Faye to grimace as it bounced in the stairwell, deafening her for several moments.

"An _alarm,_" Spike shouted over the noise, finishing his sentence. And he slowed for a split second on a flight, glancing over the edge of the railing as a door banged below. Ed rammed into him halfway down as she slid along the railing. A small sound left her slight frame as he caught her around the waist and yanked her off the railing, still staring down.

"What?" Faye demanded also looking over. And below she made out the small flash of movement, of dark clothes. Then a face was looking up at them from several floors below. One face and several more movements and glimpses of black and weapons. "Oh...shit-"

Spike bounced away from the railing, pulling Faye with him. _"Back!"_ he shouted just as gunfire suddenly broke out, clipping the railing and streaking past them as they huddled together on that mid-landing.

* * *

Jack McCullough raised his head as he paced. Kazuo sat beside him on the desk still, blue eyes hidden behind a set of goggles that, at the moment, gave him the exact location of the intruders. "What the hell was that sound?" Jack demanded of the hacker. The boy lifted his head and threw him a look that stated he knew very well what the sounds had been but was not in any way stupid enough to answer the question. Growling, Black Jack turned to face the bigger man at the doorway of his office, his form brimming with sudden anger. _"What the hell was that sound?"_ he shouted at the man furiously, also knowing the answer.

"Gunshots," the RepairMan answered him dumbly, causing the hacker to spin away with his laptop to protect it. Jack suddenly lunged at the man, taking hold of him by the collar and pulling him down to stare him dead in his face. Even with the noticeable difference in stature, the Repairman allowed Jack to yank him down to meet him head on.

"Do me a favor, Scat," Black Jack hissed at him and a moment later he lifted his other hand, releasing the RepairMan to pat down his clothes and fix the folds he had created in the larger man's uniform. "Find the imbeciles who are shooting off those gunshots for me and have their families picked up."

The Repairman nodded swiftly and turned to sweep out of the room.

"From the sound of it, McCullough-san," Kazuo said to him in softly accented English, his laptop open on the desk once more, his blue eyes trained yet again on the intruders. "There will be many families to pick up tonight."

Black Jack looked at him, his anger not yet dying down but tempered slightly. "I'm expecting funeral homes to make quite a bit of woolong in the next few days," he said quietly and he motioned with a curt nod of his head.

The hacker nodded as well, packing up his laptop and following after Jack as he stormed from the room, the door sliding shut behind them.

* * *

"C'mon!" Spike shouted and he hopped down the remaining landing, looking up quickly at the floor they had landed on. Twenty-nine. "Dammit!" And not even looking down he knew they wouldn't make it to the 28th floor before being overrun by the guards coming up at them from the floors below. Cursing vehemently he spun away from more gunfire streaking up at them, taking hold of the sterile doorknob and yanking it open. The three of them crashed out onto the 29th floor, breathing rapidly, hearts racing. The red lights flashed there as well and he looked quickly to his right then his left, not sure which way to go nor what to do anymore. They had been found faster than he had expected; he had been sure they would have at least made it straight to Black Jack before being overrun. Making up his mind almost frantically he headed left, streaking down the hallway, Faye shouting after him.

"Where the hell are we going?" she cried. "We need to get the hell _out_ of here! We're not going to make it to-"

And she squeaked as more gunfire burst out, coming from further down the hallway, from the way they had come. She glanced over her shoulder as they rounded a corner, realizing that security was coming after them from the staircase they had left behind and also from farther down the hall.

"They're all over now, dammit!" she shouted ahead at Spike.

"I know!" he yelled back furiously. "I'm not fucking _blind!"_

She had half a mind to throw her Glock at him and see if she could catch him across the mouth with it, maybe knock loose a few teeth. "Well can you think up a new plan, genius?" she raged at him. "Because your last one got shot to shit before we even made it halfway through!"

She didn't have to have super hearing to know he was growling at her under his breath. "Hey, here's a thought!" he threw back at her as they rounded another corner, just trying to stay ahead of the security personnel and their ammunition. "How about you come up with a plan and we'll wait on _you?!"_

Faye slid around the corner, surprised momentarily that her heels could carry her so well. "But you've been doing such a bang up job!" she insisted angrily. "I couldn't possibly come up with better!" And as a bullet streaked past over her head she finally pulled out her Glock, readying it. They were practically on her heels now; they would make it only as far as another hallway-

Midway down the corridor they were in, a second corridor intersected on the left, cutting the hallway in half. She ducked her head as gunfire trailed her and even as Spike raced past the intersecting hallway she knew she wouldn't make it. A bit ahead of her Ed seemed to realize the same thing for she looked at the intersecting hallway and was making a turn in her step, heading toward it.

_Shit!_

Spike made it the last twenty feet to cover the hallway and turned right, vanishing even as Faye yelled after him. "Spike!" A moment later she ducked to her left, turning her face away from wild gunshots to dart into the intersecting hallway. And instantly she felt her heart jump into her throat as she realized it was a dead end. Just like that the intersecting hallway came to a dead end fifty feet in, several doors on either side. They were shut and locked by password, she realized, as she caught sight of the password consoles beside the doors.

_"Shit!"_

Ed had come to a stop immediately into the hallway, her frame stiff. Deep inside Faye felt terror begin to grip her. Shrieking furiously Faye took hold of Ed's arm and reared up against the wall, pressing into it and for a fleeting moment fighting back tears. "Dammit!"

Ed pressed beside her as well, clutching Tomato to her chest, readjusting the goggles to her head once more. "Faye-Faye," she said quietly and Faye understood. There was nothing else to say then that would convey what the hacker was thinking.

Holding her breath Faye blindly shot into the hallway behind them, darting out then back in, wishing desperately to a God she didn't believe in that she could halt the security guards, alert them to their position so they could stop and not block her in immediately.

"Dammit. I'm not going to fucking die here, Ed," she said to the hacker, breathing hard.

Ed shook her head at her as if to chime in that she wasn't about to die there either if she had anything to say about it. And from the hallway there was a distinct pause in the gunfire, silence floating for one small moment. Faye, stiff, stood with her Glock at her side, held close to her face and her body against the cold wall in confusion.

"Faye-Fa-" Ed whispered and the sudden sound caused Faye to feel as if she spoke much too loudly, as if the sound was decipherable from where the security personnel stood. She quickly clamped a hand over Ed's mouth futilely, feeling even more helpless as the hacker merely raised her gaze up at her.

"Faye!" came Spike's voice and she felt a shiver streak up her spine. She hesitated momentarily, and then, eyes falling closed she began to count inwardly, hoping each breath would calm her, reassure her. At four a lone gunshot went off, chipping into the wall directly to her right and causing her to recoil a bit. She glanced back down at Ed and the hacker returned her look, eyes wide.

_This shouldn't be happening._

Turning away from the hacker she cursed inwardly and craned her neck a bit, peering into the main hallway and searching for Spike. He had made it around the corner. Had he decided to go on without them? And then even as she was thinking it he reappeared, swooping out from around the corner and crouched low, shooting off three rounds before recoiling out of the way once more.

"Faye!" came his voice again.

"What!?" she shouted back at him, her hand sliding off Ed's mouth.

"You need to move _now!_ I took down two of them but they're regrouping, come _on!"_ he ordered, his voice echoing, the tone as cold as the hallway.

"Ok, ok, ok," she murmured under her breath and she hesitated, swallowing to calm her racing heart. To know that she had to make a move made her tense up nonetheless, her frame stiffening as she peeked around her corner. Security personnel were coming up and crouching also by their respective corners, taking up positions. Another shot struck the wall by her head and she instantly pulled back, flinching at the sound. "Shit, Spike, are you covering me or _what?"_ she demanded, glancing toward Ed as the hacker pulled back also, having leaned into her a bit.

"I've been covering your ass for hours now, damn it, let's _go!"_

Faye fought the urge to roll her eyes, instead sliding them shut and clenching them tightly for another small count. Then she leaned toward the hacker. "Ok, Ed, I'm going first," she instructed. "I'm going to go out into the hallway and I want you to run toward Spike. And for heaven's sake, use that damn computer as a shield if you have to. Do you understand?"

"Hai, Faye-Faye!" she cried, her thin arms clutching the laptop to her chest.

"Faye-Faye," she echoed and she rose to her full height once more, readying her weapon at her side. She clamped down on Ed's shoulder, fingers digging into the girl's skin. "Ok. On the count of three…"

Ed came closer still, inching forward a bit.

"One."

As a bullet bit into the wall beside her face once more, causing her to flinch, Spike was rising again, shooting off three rounds, his eyes darting around.

"Two."

Spike ducked back behind his corner and she could hear the faint sounds of him reloading his weapon. She found herself not wanting to complete the countdown in the end. Or to put it off at least. Anything to not say the last number. And even as she fought herself to say it, she was already shoving Ed.

"_Three!"_

Faye threw herself out into the hallway, tossing herself out to take up as much room as she could, to block Ed's figure as the hacker took off immediately, hunched forward. Looking around quickly, instinctively, she took down two security officers where they stood, dropping them. Behind her she heard Spike open fire also and he too managed to take one down. Glancing over her shoulder she caught sight of Spike bending a bit and taking hold of Ed by the waist, spinning to hurl her into the hallway to his immediate left and the hacker vanished from view, the bounty hunter not once ending his flow of gunfire. And once Ed was out of range he stood to his full height, eyes narrowing as he focused entirely on shooting past Faye's figure. Not needing him to say a word Faye turned toward him, ducked her head and bolted, shooting off gunfire as she ran to catch up.

_Can we do this..?_

Ahead of her she heard Spike let out a small sound and she looked up instantly, catching sight of him as a bullet grazed his cheek, leaving a small trail of blood. He recoiled reflexively, one eye closing and even still he fired off more rounds. The return fire chipped off pieces of metal and wall, and a second bullet caught Spike in the left shoulder, throwing him backward against his will, pain streaking across his face.

She opened her mouth to scream at him, to tell him to just go on and that she would catch up now. To just get him to move and get the hell out of the way as he slid down the wall to the floor with a wince.

Then pain suddenly cut through her, swarming out to engulf her, and she felt her blood leave her, somehow felt a coldness as her blood was splattered to one side. The sudden jolt caused her to falter momentarily and she slid somewhat, looking to correct her feet under her as a second explosion of pain wracked her. And this time she felt the break in her, felt her blood streak out ahead of her and soil the sterile floor. The fluid matched the lights flashing, and she didn't understand for a moment what had happened.

Against the wall Spike opened his eyes, lifting his head and she felt his anger suddenly coat the hallway, floating around them. He was shouting at her but she couldn't make out what he was saying, her figure mindlessly attempting to remain standing. But even as she went to speak, as she went to tell him that there was something wrong, she felt blackness streak past her eyes, a small glimpse, before it flooded her and then there was nothing.

* * *


	32. Dead End

**The Decision:**

The gunfire had died off into silence and Spike could only rest there for a long while, sitting on the floor and up against a cold metal wall at his back. There was no thought, only pain, as he stared down at Faye only a few feet away from his outstretched leg, his hand having risen to staunch the blood flow from his shoulder. Why was he always getting shot anyway? He almost wanted to laugh at the thought before the grim image at his feet settled on him once more. Blood was slowly leaking out from under her and it mesmerized him, that dark fluid in the red lights. And for a moment he didn't know what the hell to do, his hand twitching around the Jericho in his grip.

In the darkened hallway to his left, Ed sat against the wall opposite him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. As he turned his head to glance toward her weakly he saw her look toward him at the exact moment, her amber eyes wide but unafraid.

_Is this where it ends then?_

The hacker merely gazed at him, silent, breathing hard. But still there was no fear in her eyes and he admired her then, more than he had ever admired anyone before. She shifted a bit and her shirt caught on something, forcing her to look down to her right. And she went still, her hand reaching out to poke at the wall. Spike watched her for another moment before turning his head to look forward once more, aware of movement from the security personnel littering the hallway several yards away.

"Don't move," one of them, perhaps the commanding officer said as he neared. And as Spike grimaced, leaning forward slowly away from the wall he ordered again angrily, "Don't you _fucking move!"_

Ed rose away from the wall, spinning about to jab at the wall quickly, her frame tense. Spike kept his eyes straight ahead, not knowing what she was doing and not really caring either. He hesitated as the commanding officer came forward another step, his weapon focused on the bounty hunter.

"You're going to stand up real slow and you're going to put the weapon down," the man said as he took another step forward and Spike realized he liked the way with which the man spoke to him. A certain brashness was in that tone that immediately set him off.

"Am I really? Am I really going to stand up? Do you really want me to put the weapon down?" Spike asked him carelessly. "Can I put the weapon down first _then_ stand up? That would be easier for me."

Ed crouched, putting her laptop down and opening it. Then, teetering on the balls of her feet she pulled off a thin sheet of metal from the wall, examining it intently as she plugged her Tomato into it.

"Stand up and put the weapon down!" the commanding officer ordered once more, his face registering aggravation.

Spike hesitated still, watching Ed from the corner of his eye. He suspected she was definitely up to something but he couldn't for the life of him be sure what. Instead he merely watched the officer as he stopped a few feet away from Faye's unmoving form on the floor. Cautiously, the guard lifted a foot and poked at Faye's hip. She didn't respond to the nudge, her frame still.

Looking down once more at her Spike realized he felt heavy and disoriented, not really seeing and not really understanding. And yet there was something else rising in him at the same time, something that made him feel crazy and wild in his disorientation, wanting to push this officer to the point where he would just shoot him. Almost like having no sense of control. The mere way the guard poked at Faye made his muscles bunch, his temper flaring.

And he wanted to stay in that wild phase for a bit.

Against the wall Ed was tapping at her Tomato rapidly, not even bothering to look at him.

"I'm not going to tell you again," the officer was saying to him and behind him the rest of his team was shifting a bit, holding position along the mouth of the hallway. "Put the weapon down, slide it to me and then stand up slowly."

Silently, Spike did as he was told, slowly hunching forward and lowering his gun hand to the floor to rise. As he did so he snuck a glance toward Ed and the hacker watched him now, her frame tense and alert. She was waiting for him, he realized and he was baffled for a second. What was she waiting for him to do, he had no idea. Turning his gaze away he lifted himself into a crouch, quickly studying the area around him and just as he paused in front of Faye's fallen form Ed brought a finger down on her keyboard.

Darkness swept the corridor.

"Oh," Spike murmured stupidly and there was a single second of complete hysteria in the dark from the commanding officer's team. And with a sigh, almost as if it was too much for him to be bothered with, Spike finally sprang up and jumped, a leg slicing out in the darkness. His foot caught the officer under the chin and he felt more than saw the man get thrown back, a small grunt sounding. Spike landed easily but felt his foot slip a bit on something and he felt a sickness inside in realizing he had slipped on a slick fluid, no doubt Faye's blood. Fighting back a groan he crouched and reached out blindly, grimacing as he lifted his pained gun hand and shot off several rounds. His other hand came down on something soft and silky and he reached past Faye's hair to her arm, winding a hand under. A soft groan came from her as he lifted her a slight bit and he hesitated, eyes widening in the darkness.

"Faye-"

Gunfire was returned then, several shouts ringing out and Spike recoiled a moment before releasing Faye to reload his weapon. And then, holstering it quickly he reached out with both hands and took a tight hold of her, yanking her forward and onto him. Unprepared for her sudden dead weight he lost his balance then quickly regained it, teetering on his haunches as he raised her into his arms and allowed her frame to lean entirely against him.

"Spike-person!" That was Ed's voice coming from behind him in the pitch darkness.

"On my way," he called back and he rose, wincing as Faye's weight put strain on his wounded shoulder. Wincing, he began to drag her, reaching the other hand out and encountering wall. He pushed up against it, winding one of Faye's arms around his neck to support her frame by the waist and he shifted along the wall in the darkness, ignoring the mess of shouts and chaos from the commanding officer's team. A few feet along the wall he encountered the turn into the hallway Ed waited in and he took it, remaining pressed to the cold surface at his back. "I'm here. Can we get some light or-"

The red alarm lights came back on a moment later and he looked down to see Ed packing up her Tomato. "Hacker-person is giving Ed a very hard time," she said to him, almost in a knowing tone as she rose and she didn't bother to wait to see if Spike was behind her as she took off down the hallway, her laptop pressed to her side.

Sighing inwardly Spike hoisted Faye a bit closer to him and followed, attempting to keep up with the spry hacker. She was quick, he would give her that. They turned that corner and encountered another corridor, taking that one quickly just to stay ahead. "Look," he began, glancing at Ed as he spoke. "I only have one of these and if I use it, there's no way we're going to be able to blast our way out of here if we even get out."

Ed looked at him over her shoulder as they ran, a small frown marring her brow. But she didn't slow and neither did he as he released Faye's hand around his neck, his other arm taking her full weight. Fishing into his pocket he searched about and came up with a small round object, fingering the pin poking from its top.

Ed's eyes widened slightly but she suddenly picked up speed, now full out running to put distance between herself and Spike.

Spike slowed as she did so, hesitating in the middle of the corridor. He would set the blast for the foot of the hallway to take out the guards that attempted to round it. Lifting the small grenade to his mouth, he yanked out the pin with his teeth, waiting several seconds as he heard the approaching footsteps. And as Ed rounded the corner at the head of the hallway he flung the grenade, immediately turning away and yanking Faye into his chest.

The force of the explosion sent him forward into the wall slightly, Faye's hair blowing across his face. But all that really brought a smile to his face was the surprised and pained cries of the guards caught in the explosion. Looking ahead once more he began to drag Faye quickly, taking hold of her hand around his neck again. She was a bit of a weight on his shoulder and as he looked down he realized he was still bleeding rather freely. He made it to the end of the hallway and came to a dead stop as he encountered a sealed door ten feet in. Ed was already crouched before him, having pulled loose a thin sheet of metal and plugged her laptop in.

"Let's go, Ed," Spike said to her, fighting the panic that was threatening to rise up inside once more. He glanced over his shoulder, aware that any second he would hear the security guards stomping down the hallway once they had recovered and he turned back to Ed, tapping his foot. "Ed-"

At that point, as Ed ignored him and began to type at her keyboard he became aware of the hissing sound Faye was issuing. He looked down at her quickly and she was whispering faintly.

"I can't…breathe…"

He shifted her a bit, staring down at her and she lifted her head slowly. It seemed a huge effort on her part, her head refusing to hold steadily and she looked at him blearily. "You're fine," he said to her quickly, and he turned his attention back down to Ed. "Ed! You got it or what?" he snapped at the hacker.

"Ed is busy! No talking!" she threw back at him, not even bothering to look up. She ran her fingers over her keys expertly, shaking her head after a moment in concentration. "Tomato is having difficulty…"

Spike exhaled wearily, floating back against the wall once more and murmuring, "Damn it…" He readjusted his grip on her and then merely released the arm wound around his neck, instead pulling her up against his side. She went without a fight, making a small sound when he wrapped his arms around her and hoisted her up a bit more.

"You're going to get it on me," she said to him softly, faintly.

He looked down at her with a frown, forgetting Ed for a moment and as he stared at her she pointed with a weary finger toward his shoulder. He looked toward his wound and upon seeing it and remembering it he merely snorted and shook his head. "Hate to say it, Faye, but you don't have to worry about that," he said to her with a sardonic tone in his voice.

He watched her expression for a second as she contemplated it numbly, complete confusion marring her smooth forehead, her eyes hooded. And then she lowered her eyes from his to look down at herself.

A moment later her breath hitched, her eyes widening as realization washed over her. Her lips parting, her hand lifting dumbly toward her chest, she began to gasp, her shoulders heaving and wild sounds issuing forth.

"Oh, my God…oh, my-"

Spike looked at her and quickly began to shush her, his own hand lifting toward her. "Calm down," he whispered, his face pinching. "Calm down, Faye, you're going to hyperventilate, calm down-"

"You fucking calm down," she hissed at him, her tone shaking and tears rising and already spilling down her cheeks as she stared down at herself. Her hand skimmed with the faintest touch across her chest, afraid to connect fully with the mess and even as she stared he saw the moment her eyes became blank.

"Faye, listen to me. You have to-"

A moment later it was for nothing as she melted in his embrace, her body slipping.

With a growl he caught her against his hip as her entire weight fell on him once more. He quickly heaved her up, turning his attention to Ed quickly. "Ed, for God's sake, what the hell is _taking_ so long?!"

She ignored him as she tapped away, her head bent toward the screen, her concentration solely on her work. With an impatient sigh he looked back over his shoulder the way they had come. He was sure he was imagining the sounds of incoming security personnel. It was his mind playing tricks on him. They couldn't have regrouped over that explosion so quickly. Or so he prayed. His shoulder hurt like hell and things were definitely not going the way he had wanted them to. He needed to get Faye out of there alive which would be a stretch for all of them, hoping any of them would be getting out alive. He glanced down at her critically, his mind working furiously. She was slowing them down. Could he leave her?

And a moment later he snapped his thinking away from that thought. No, he couldn't leave her. He would never leave anyone behind like that. Especially not one of his own team.

"Guess that's it for all of us then," he whispered quietly, gazing down at her face where it was nestled against his shoulder. And with a sigh he reached out and pushed aside a lock of black hair from her smooth face, his own feeling drawn and tired.

She seemed at peace in silence, in unconsciousness. He almost wished that for himself then as he stared at her quietly. His earlier adrenaline was fading away in the red lights of the alarm and he was left feeling so very tired. As if all of it in the end had been for nothing. It was not new, the feeling. It was the story of his life, really. Everything he had ever done, it had always been for nothing. Although this time he had to admit he had gotten himself into this problem. Faye had never asked for his help and he hadn't ever made it easier on her but he was tired. Tired of all the running, all the fighting and all the violence. It was his life but he had tried to put it all behind himself.

It just always reached to drag him back.

The door made a small sound, beeping faintly and Ed growled, her fingers somehow moving twice as fast. To his side, now hearing sounds and very aware of what the sounds were, Spike looked at Ed, feeling his earlier adrenaline attempt to kick back in.

And the feel of it, the itch in his hands, the tightening of his muscles, he welcomed it. It made him feel alive the way silence and thought made him feel old. He needed this rush because in the end it was all he really knew. His jaw clenching he felt his frame become rigid once more. "Get us out of here, Ed," he demanded and he leaned Faye's frame against the wall, his shoulder protesting. Glancing down at her, he inspected her critically, needing something to do in the few seconds that it was taking Ed to handle the online systems. The shots had exited her body higher than he had expected which was good in that if anything was damaged he could expect it to be muscle tissue and not a major organ. But he couldn't be certain and he didn't want to risk it anymore than they already had in the time they had wasted.

"Security-persons are shutting down all storage points," Ed murmured as she typed and there was an edge of anxiety in her tone that he did not like. If there was one thing about Ed, nothing ever worried the hacker. "The passwords are being rotated. Ed doesn't have a floor plan to-" And she suddenly broke off, excitement crossing her face. "Here!"

Spike turned to look at her instantly, swinging Faye with him as he did so. "What? What ya got?" he asked her, fighting down the sense of apprehension threatening to rise.

Ed wordlessly jabbed at Tomato and he merely watched the screens open, the different diagrams of the building as they were pulled up and discarded, as her smiley faces attacked the password prompts. "Almost…almost…"

He glanced at the door they waited before, looking back down the hallway they had just fled. They were going to turn that corner any second to come after the three of them with more guns blazing. He whirled back around as Tomato beeped and then the console beside the door also beeped, flashing green.

Ed yanked the cord of Tomato, pulling it loose from the storage point. Spike was already moving as the door swished open, Ed pulling her laptop with her almost frantically. "Where does this lead-" Spike shouted to her over the shrill sirens and even as he was asking he came to a dead stop, Faye hanging at his side and cradled in one arm.

"Straight to me," Black Jack answered him with a small smile, hands shoved into his pockets. And the room he waited in was filled with several men, all wielding weapons aimed at Spike and Ed. Beside him stood the Hacker, the boy's blue eyes cold, his arms crossed over his own laptop and cradling it to his chest.

Spike's shoulders fell wearily as he lifted Faye to lean against him once more. "Thanks a lot, Ed," he said to his hacker.


	33. Decisions

**Chapter Thirty -Two – Decisions:**

"Well, you already know you're not getting out of here alive," Black Jack said quietly and he reached into the pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and merely tapping the box against his palm in soft amusement. His glance trailed to the nearest man in uniform, studying the weapon in his grip. "And it wouldn't be so much me getting in your way as a stray bullet."

Spike glanced at the same man, his mismatched eyes shifting over the weapon in stony silence. Beside him, weighing what felt like a ton while in the sights of twenty guns, Faye's breathing had finally gone erratic, her chest lifting and dark red fluid trailing out in a steady stream. "Then I guess there's really nothing more to say, huh?"

"There's always more to say," Black Jack murmured and he looked at Faye pointedly, his face falling almost sadly.

He hated it. He didn't want to say it but he was going to have to. And he fucking hated it. He looked toward Faye, his gaze flying over her pale face and beside them both Edward looked as solemn as he had ever seen her. Even through the worst of it he had never seen her look as she did now. With a growl rumbling in the back of his throat at the fact that the entire situation had put that look on the hacker's face he focused on the floor underneath him, aware that it reflected him back up as if he were a giant.

"What do you want?" he asked quietly, dangerously.

Black Jack's eyes shot back to him, staring at him equal parts triumph and awe. And he took a step forward, his cigarettes forgotten in his grip. "You know what I want."

Ed looked from Black Jack to the blue-eyed hacker and then to Spike, her large eyes worried. The Asian boy at Jack's side was eyeing her curiously, his fingers tracing small designs on his own laptop at his side.

Biting back anger, Spike said through clenched teeth, "You know I have no trust for you, Jack. At this point I would just as soon let her die than go with you."

Black Jack paused in mid-step, his hand going to his pocket in a slow gesture. Spike's eyes flew to the hand but he said nothing, instead lifting his gaze to stare Black Jack dead in his eyes.

"You don't really have much of a choice at this point, do you, Spike?" he said finally, and a small smile quirked the corner of his lips, the type of smile that made Spike want to ram his fist directly into his mouth as if he has spoken ill about Julia.

At his side Faye exhaled in a hiss.

Spike rose a bit straighter, aware that her breath caught at the gesture. "You really do have to put yourself in my place right now, Jack," he said to the man and there was a derisive snap in his tone at his name. "If you were in my place and I told you that I could keep her alive knowing full well that she hated me, what would even make me think you would consider handing her over to me?"

"I can make sure she lives," Black Jack replied.

Spike's own smile was humorless. "I think she'd rather die than allow you that chance."

Black Jack was silent for a moment. "But you can't really make that decision for her, can you, Spike?"

The smile was short-lived on his face. Aware of the rattling sound her breathing was making in his ear Spike only hesitated for one moment, weighing the option for what could have been an eternity in his head. She would hate him in the end either way. Even in the afterlife Spike had a feeling Faye would curse him. Which meant he had much fun to look forward to.

Wordlessly, Spike nodded.

Whirling around, Black Jack headed for a console on the far wall, depositing the pack of cigarettes back in his pocket as he went. A flurry of pressed white shirt and dark suit jacket. Spike hated the sight of him at that moment more than he could recall ever hating it. He watched him as he pulled open the protective plastic lid to the wall console and reached into it. And he heard him as he murmured that he needed a medical unit, to prep the observation room for a patient, for treatment.

Black Jack turned back to them, his eyes flying from Spike to Faye and then to the nearest guards surrounding them. Silently he motioned to the guards, nodding.

Holstering their weapons, three of the guards came forward, one immediately stepping in between Spike and Faye. They yanked her from him roughly, shoving him back a step and he instinctively took that same step to follow the guard that had physically pushed him away, cocking a fist.

"Be careful with her," Black Jack ordered curtly of the guards, his frame stiff. Spike checked the impulse, pulling back once more and feeling Ed draw up at his side silently.

Exhaling softly, Faye fell into the arms of one guard without protest as he heaved her up and the other two quickly re-armed themselves, focusing on first Ed and then Spike.

Bringing her over to Black Jack, the guard held her as Jack examined her, pulling back her eyelids and then bending over her, checking the wound. He murmured something, probably to himself but Spike did feel his eyes widen a fraction when he read the word _"superficial"_ cross his lips.

From behind them the door swished open once more and a team efficiently moved in, carrying between them a cot for transport. The team seemed ready to perform some life saving operation and Spike found himself watching them as they began to cross toward Black Jack. The Asian boy stepped aside, drawing closer to Jack, blue eyes flying back and forth between the team and Faye. Spike waited as Black Jack immediately took hold of Faye himself and met them halfway, laying her down on the cot and speaking in quiet confidence to the man who seemed in charge of the team. The man nodded as Jack placed a hand on Faye's forehead, speaking to the doctor in hushed tones. With one last nod the doctor said clearly for Spike to hear, "We'll have her prepped for you when you're done here." And with that the team whisked Faye away, back out the doors, Spike feeling as if he had just done a very wrong but final thing as the doors sealed shut with a firm snap.

Black Jack hesitated, still staring at the doors. And the silence was suddenly ominous in the room, the feeling as sterile as the walls, as the facility itself. Ed beside him was silent, withdrawn, and Spike glanced down at her quickly, staying just as quiet but straightening when Black Jack turned to face them both, his expression a drawn mask. At his side the hacker murmured something, leaning into Jack. And Jack bowed his head slightly with a slight nod, his eyes streaking back toward Spike.

Spike stared at him, his jaw clenching. This was the part that worried him a tiny bit. Other than Faye's wrath if they ever saw her again. And even that didn't really rank up there because he would treat her anger and indignation the way he would normally treat her, which was to not pay her any mind.

This however was radically different and a tad bit more violent. With the thought his shoulders squared up and he took a step, forcing Ed behind his frame.

Black Jack stared at him for a long and silent moment as the hacker pulled back, his own jaw clenching. And then, as if coming to a decision, his eyes strayed to hover over what he could see of Ed behind Spike's stiff frame. With a last growl he turned his back on them, striding to the doors and through them as they opened for him. "Get the hell out of my building."

Wordlessly, the hacker followed after him, leaving Spike and Ed surrounded by the armed guards.

* * *

Faye's eyes came open, tears blurring her eyesight. Directly over her all she could see was a white light. It was blinding and it started a headache off almost immediately. She groaned, her head falling to the side and she was aware of blurred movement, of figures hovering next to her, over her. She blinked, not understanding why it was hard to breathe, why she felt as if all her limbs were made of lead. Underneath her was a cold metal surface, her skin feeling as if it had frozen over.

"Spike," she called quietly, vowing to hurt him if she came to find out this was somehow his fault. She grimaced, even the small sound she made seeming so much louder in her head, ricocheting around inside. "Spike, damn it…"

"Hello, my love."

Her eyes snapped open at the familiar voice but it was not Spike. Above her, as her vision swam and then sharpened into focus, she stared at the man over her. She squinted, trying to see past the medical uniform he wore and the surgical mask covering the bottom edge of his face. Alarm grew inside as he reached up and lowered the mask and she found herself staring at Jack McCullough, at those gentle eyes. All thought screeched to a stop inside and she could do nothing more than stare at him, feeling the little blood she had been able to muster drain from her face.

"Do you know where you are?" he asked her softly.

And watching his mouth move, watching his eyes darken as he bent more to block the light from her, she felt a sudden wave of fear, an ominous feeling that all was not right and that something had happened to Spike. It was the only way she could be here before Jack. She lowered her eyes slightly and felt her heart miss a beat at finding herself nude. She was so cold and this place was much too bright. She immediately closed her eyes once more, panic beginning to rise.

"Faye?" Jack asked her.

"Is he dead?" she uttered, feeling her face falter at the mere thought. "Did…did you kill him?"

She felt his eyes float up to gaze at her hair as she opened her eyes. And he avoided her stare, instead lifting a hand to run it across her forehead tenderly. "You shouldn't trouble yourself with those kinds of questions," he murmured to her, eyes trailing along her hairline as his palm skimmed her temple. "Suffice to say he left you in my care because he knew I would watch over you." His face was composed, his tone soft and matter of fact. "I will take care of you always."

Faye could only look at him, her mouth having run dry. And as he caressed her forehead once more she became aware of a sudden sound running underneath his whisper. She stiffened slightly, looking to her side. Whatever surface she rested on, the metal edges curled around her, encasing her almost like a coffin. And as she looked at him once more cold water suddenly began to seep into the casing. She flinched at the sudden alien sensation of cold fluid on her already cold skin, her frame stiffening. And her lips parted in fear as the freezing water began to rise around her quickly, her hands streaking out toward the edges of the casing to lift herself out. But Jack quickly took hold of her wrists, leaning forward once more.

"I would never hurt you," he said to her firmly, wrestling her hands back down.

"Don't do this," she cried, fighting him frightfully. "Please. Please. Don't-"

An image flashed before her eyes, of blue water and a cylindrical tube. And she couldn't do it again. Not another cold sleep. She couldn't do it again.

"Jack. Jack, please. _Jack-"_

A second person appeared overhead as the water now skimmed her shoulders, as it caused her to go rigid. The water was a familiar cold, her heart beating rapidly. And the second man was lowering something over her face, tying a strap around the back of her head as he lifted it away from the cold metal surface. Her hair was floating, wet in the water and she screamed then, finally. A full hoarse shriek of terror resounding into a mask that was being placed over her nose and mouth. And as the water began to cover the front of her body, she took a deep breath to scream again, to shout for help.

Her vision instantly blurred as she choked on something in the air. Whatever was being fed through the mask was not normal oxygen. And she had just taken a lungful of it. She tried to scream again, her wrists held down in the freezing water, but nothing came from her. She blinked, struggling as the water surrounded her face, splashing against her cheeks. But she was falling away into a cold darkness before the water enveloped her completely.

* * *

Spike didn't even need to look at Ed. He just knew. He hopped out of the Swordfish, Ed popping out from behind him and he didn't say a word. Merely went about the motions. Tucking in his baby for the night. The Swordfish allowed him, light gleaming off her metal edges as he shut the seal, as he closed her down. As if nothing at all had transpired and she was already waiting for the next time they would be taking off on some new adventure.

"Oh, if you only knew," he murmured to his ship. And he turned away from her to see Ed still waiting on him, her laptop clutched against her chest, her amber eyes wide but understanding. Pausing beside her, as her head followed his movements, he hesitated for a long moment.

She waited for him to ask what he wanted to ask.

"You think I made the wrong decision, don't you?" he asked her quietly.

The hacker pursed her lips for a second, rocking a bit on her heels as she mulled over her answer. And then, quietly, in a softer voice than he was accustomed to hearing from her, she said, "Edward thinks she didn't want Faye-Faye to die. Ed doesn't blame Spike-person."

Spike gazed at her, silent.

Ducking her head as she spoke once more however, she murmured, "Jet-person might not feel the same."

Lifting his head at her words, his jaw working as he thought over her last sentence, he managed a small, "Ah."

Throwing him a small regretful shrug Ed turned from him and took a few steps before hesitating once more and turning to look over her shoulder at him again. And with a small smile tucked under the heaviness of the last hour, he fell into step behind her and let her lead the way to Jet.

Jet was silent when they finally found him in the kitchen, of all places. He stood before the stove, watching peppers fry blindly as if unaware they burned. At their arrival, Ein began to bark loudly, his rear wagging happily from where he stood beside Jet. But as Jet looked toward them, his eyes flying over first Ed's face then Spike's, he paused for a long moment before giving one nod and turning back to his peppers.

"How did it happen?" he asked gruffly.

Ein came to a stop with a small whimper.

Ed glanced at Spike as the leaner bounty hunter returned her look before replying, "How did what happen?"

Clenching his jaw, his eyes closing as if Spike had asked the single most insane question known to man, Jet asked, "How did she _die?_ And did you take down that son of a bitch Black Jack?" he demanded irritably. And when he raised his head that time there was pure anger written across his weathered face.

Spike and Ed quickly exchanged another glance. "Jet…Faye's not dead," he answered slowly, warily. "I mean, I don't think she's dead. He made it seem like it was-"

"What are you talking about, Spike?" Jet grunted at him, staring at him in confusion.

Spike took a deep breath, readying himself. "Faye got shot, Jet. That's the bottom line. We were discovered too quickly and we just didn't have time. She got shot and I had to leave her."

There was a moment of complete and utter silence. And in that moment Spike understood, rather dimly, that he had worded the sentence wrong. Jet stepped away from the stove, a small twitch to his brow betraying his next move. And then, moving faster than Spike would ever have expected of the stockier bounty hunter, Jet landed one solid punch into the corner of Spike's mouth.

The leaner bounty hunter staggered back a step in surprise, Ed letting loose a small gasp behind them.

"What the fuck do you mean you had to _leave_ her?" Jet roared furiously, his hands clenched into tight fists, his shoulders suddenly heaving. "You went in as a _team_!"

Spike held himself rigidly for a long moment, his frame stiff from the pain streaking across his face. And as he exhaled in a small hiss, he breathed into the pain, waiting for it to subside. He had to admit, Jet had one hell of a punch.

_"Wait!"_ Ed shrieked, flinging herself between the two bounty hunters as Jet reached for Spike once more. Coming to the rescue, Ein began to bark loudly, jumping back and forth between Jet and Spike, hopping erratically.

Jet waited, anger radiating from him like smoke from a cigarette.

"Dammit, Jet," Spike growled, lifting fingers to the corner of his mouth. A dark red fluid soiled the tips of his fingers as he pulled them away to examine them. And he understood he had deserved it but it would have been nice to have been given some kind of warning. "It's not like she got shot and I left her there on the floor!" he cried. And almost as an afterthought he muttered, "For fuck's sake…"

Jet straightened visibly, his anger slipping slightly. "Huh?"

With a bitter sigh, Spike lowered his hand to his side and glared at the older bounty hunter. "She got shot. Hell, I got shot, too," he snapped and he motioned bitterly to his shoulder. "But they took her down. And I tried to get her out but we were surrounded. So I had to leave her behind because Jack said he could help her."

Jet's face slid toward disbelief. "And you _believed_ him?" he demanded incredulously.

Spike threw him a withered look. "Of course I believed him. The guy loves her. For some fucking reason, that I'll never understand, he loves her." And he sauntered over toward the small table in the kitchen area, winding around a very silent Ed.

Jet followed him with his eyes, turning slightly in place.

Plopping himself into the seat, Spike sighed and dug into his pocket. Fishing around silently he paused after a search and wearily lifted his head toward Jet. "You got a smoke?"

Jet looked away, moving toward the stove and picking up a box of cigarettes. Lifting it, he tossed Spike the box and then merely leaned against the stove, arms crossing over his chest.

Behind him the peppers were burning but Spike didn't feel the need to remind him. He bent back the flap of the cigarette box and pulled one out, reaching inside for the lighter Jet hid in the box as well. The cigarette box was tossed on the table beside him and he lit the cigarette, the lighter following the cigarette box onto the table after a moment. Leaning forward over his knees, Spike took a deep drag and hung his head silently.

"How can he help her?" Jet asked him quietly.

Spike didn't reply for a long moment. Ed slowly shifted over toward the table and seated herself carefully opposite Spike, watching him intently. At her feet Ein followed and then stretched out with a slight whine.

"Something with restorative practices, I would say," he mused, exhaling the smoke. He broke off, lifting the cigarette and staring at the burning edge absentmindedly. "I don't know. I'll figure it out when I go back in."

Jet stiffened, Ed having turned her attention to Jet before snapping her head back around to stare at Spike. "What's that you said?" Jet asked him, surprise weighing his words.

Spike lifted his head to look at Jet and then turned his head at feeling Ed's eyes burn into the side of his face. His dragging silence was filled with disbelief, trailing and hovering in the kitchen. "What the hell? Why are you both looking at me like that?"

"When you go back in," Jet echoed his words, blinking at him. "You're going back in? For her?" he asked him.

Spike stared at him, a small frown crossing his brow. And his lips parted to speak but then closed firmly once more, understanding washing over his face. "I would do it for you too, Jet."

Jet's mouth also opened, words failing him as easily as they did Spike. Clamping his mouth shut, his eyes closing tightly, he growled, "I'm going with you."

Spike instantly shook his head. "No."

Jet's figure stiffened, anger streaking through him. "Why the hell not?" he demanded.

Spike glowered at him, the cigarette hanging between two weary slender fingers. "Because I'm not going to worry over anyone except myself. I bring you or Ed along, I'm going to need a plan, work out the kinks. I don't have time for all that. Or patience."

Ed looked toward Jet once more silently as he puffed up in aggravation.

"I don't need you to worry about me. I can take care of myself," Jet barked at Spike, irritated.

"Yes, you can," Spike said, his tone neither soothing nor firm. "But I just don't have the energy anymore, Jet." He settled into silence then, his shoulders falling weakly. "I'm giving it up after this."

Jet gaped at him. "You're what?"

Spike took another drag of the cigarette, biding his time. The cigarette was exactly what he needed right then. While the worries didn't leave him the pause gave him enough of a moment to mull over his words. "I'm giving it up after this. I'm going in, getting her out if she's still alive but that's it. I'm just…going to disappear for a bit. Start over somewhere else."

Jet blinked at him, Ed leaning back tiredly in the opposite seat.

Spike hesitated, staring at the cigarette clenched between his fingers, staring at the burning end. "It's about that time, isn't it?" he questioned quietly, absentmindedly. "To start over?"

Jet rose away from the stove, the smell of burning peppers now potent in the kitchen. "To start over? Again? How often are you going to start over?" he asked him. He broke off, his mouth open to speak but he didn't say anything for a long moment. Then, taking a deep breath, he propped his hands on his hips and bowed his head, thinking over his next words carefully. "You know…Spike. All the chances you've ever gotten…why now?"

The leaner bounty hunter glanced at him, his face blank. His mismatched eyes darted back down to his cigarette after another thought, blinking wearily. "Because…I haven't gotten it right yet," he replied quietly. "All these chances…and I still haven't gotten it right. But that's no reason to give up trying something new."

Ed leaned forward with a snap, her amber eyes wide. "Ooh, like the little engine that could! Ed thinks she can, she thinks she can! Choo-choo!" she cried and she yanked on an imaginary train whistle, Ein barking cheerfully at her from the floor.

Spike looked at her and the smile he sent her was soft. Resigned. "Yeah, something like," he replied quietly. And he turned his attention back to the cigarette, his eyes darting in Jet's direction but not exactly lifting enough to meet the older bounty hunter's glare. "You should do something about those peppers. They're burning."

Jet stiffened, taking a step to bark at him angrily. But then, in acknowledgement, he merely took that same step back and turned to face the stove. Wordlessly, he yanked the wok off the burner and set it aside, his shoulders firm. "There's beef," he mumbled, his head bowed.

"Yeah, I smell it." Spike rose with a small strained breath, a small sound hissing out of him. "Think you can look at this shoulder after we eat?"

Jet threw a very quick glance over at him before whirling back to the peppers and staring at the wok absentmindedly. "Yeah, sure."

"And I need a contact," Spike continued, his voice soft. "I need some…_items_."

This time Jet did turn to look at him. "Items," he stated brusquely, observing the leaner bounty hunter. "Such as?"

Spike's mismatched eyes were heavy. "You know the kind I mean. I'll take a nap instead while you get me a name. And then I'll get what I need and go back in."

With that he turned to the door and floated through it, shoulders hanging exhaustedly, his entire frame limp. Jet watched him walk down the corridor and disappear into the common room, his jaw clenched tightly.

Ed came up beside Jet, Ein's bowl in her hand at the ready. "Spike-person wants to blow buildings up," she said to him, looking expectantly at the wok.

"Yeah," Jet sighed. "Hopefully not while he's in them."

* * *


	34. Sleeping Memories

**Chapter – Sleeping Memories:**

There was the smallest flash and she felt as if she dreamed. But something was different here. This wasn't her life. This wasn't-

Music had always been playing in his house. Jazz. Swing. Bebop. Blues. Such a wide range but somehow it had always melded so perfectly to make him the person she had once loved. She approached the house slowly, looking back the way she had come. The street was beautiful, the trees lining the sidewalk slowly entering Fall. It would be lovely this year.

But this wasn't right.

He appeared at the window, a quick glimpse as he passed by the glass. The music player was beside the window which was why the music had always drifted out to reach her. She stared at him as he became visible once more, tending to something. Then he vanished again and Chet Baker's Embraceable You began to play. And this was home. She lived up the hill. Her father was away on business but her mother was home, waiting on her to return. She was late.

An image of the moon flashed before her eyes and glass cracked loudly, shattering the image.

"Hey there, beautiful," came the easy voice and she turned back to the house, looking toward the window as the boy opened it. A smile crossed her face as she neared, her hands lifting to grasp the picket fence bordering his home. He was blond and wonderfully handsome with a wide smile and clear blue eyes.

There was a flash as her hair lifted before her eyes, as they went into Zero Gravity. Something was wrong.

"You coming in or you just going to stare at me all day?" the blond boy asked her and he was grinning at her through the window. He was beautiful. She had loved him once. She _remembered_ loving him.

"Is this a dream?" she asked him quietly, slightly confused. But the smile was still there on her face because he made her feel safe and loved. Standing there before his house with fleeting memories and images of a moon. But she was still here. And she was there as well.

_We carved our names into my dresser._

There were screams ringing out and her mother seated at her side was afraid, crying out to her, reaching frantically. The moon was breaking. Or perhaps the broken glass before her made it seem so.

"Get in here, I want you to listen to this new album I got," the boy said with a flick of his hand. He hesitated thoughtfully. "Well, it's not new but new as in I've never owned it before. C'mon, the door is open." And he turned back to the music player, digging through a case of CDs.

Her mother's screams followed her.

She slowly passed through the front gates and toward the porch, climbing the stairs. There was no yellow vinyl and white boots. Only a pair of sneakers and shorts. Yellow vinyl. Why would she wear yellow vinyl? Her hair was short but free, falling around her face, bangs blowing in a gentle wind. Her home was up the hill. She could see it from where she stood. But she went into his house, turning the knob and entering. He had lived here his entire life. When she had come to Raleigh he had been her very first friend.

His voice came from the other room as she stood in the front hallway for an uncertain moment. The strains of Embraceable You. Chet Baker's raw perfect voice. "My heart grows tipsy. You and you alone…" the boy sang with the song, and he appeared at the doorway, serenading her. Her smile widened even more, laughter breaking from her as the boy came to her and swept her into his arms, his voice gentle. "Bring out the gypsy in me…"

And when his voice lowered, his hand pressing to hers, his arm winding to rest around her waist, she understood that this had happened once before. With him. And with another man. But for the very first time it had been with this blond young man before her.

_Gypsy. Romani._

"What's the matter? You're looking a bit…nervous," the boy said against her ear, returning to humming when she remained silent.

Water. Cold freezing water. Cold.

"Why is the moon breaking?" she asked quietly, a small frown crossing her face. She pressed closer to the boy, looking over his shoulder. The inside of his house was lovely, all wood frame and cozy. Her own house was cozy as well but a bit more modern. Wasn't it?

"Why so down?" he asked her, pulling away. And they still swayed back and forth gently, his hand holding hers, his arm around her waist. But he was here with her as if there was no other place to be.

"I'm going on a trip," she said to him. Was she? Where was she going? "The new space shuttles, through the gates. I'm leaving soon. But when I come back I want to see you."

_There was an incident. A Gate Incident. __**The**__ Gate Incident. The moon broke and I fell asleep for a long time._

"When are you coming back?" he asked her, coming to a halt. He grinned. "I can pick you up. Or-"

And he suddenly glanced to their side, toward the staircase, hesitating. As if he had just remembered something. Something that broke his heart to even think about. He started and quickly looked back toward her, blue eyes wide.

"What is it?" she asked him, tilting her head at him.

He pulled away then, the blond boy with the beautiful blue eyes. He released her and took a step away from her, hands falling at his sides. "I forgot. I have something to do. Maybe you can swing by again later." And he turned away from her, rigid.

Her eyes came open and her vision was blurred, her heart pounding. She was cold and her limbs felt lifeless around her. Her breath was ragged, one of her hands cracking against a hard surface as she flailed suddenly.

"What did you forget?" she called after him and she was in his home once more. "I'm wet."

It was stated with such certainty because she _was_ wet. Her fingers seemed to slip down a smooth surface, like glass, as she suddenly alternated between his home and a cold, thick place. She felt weightless. But when she looked at the blond boy he had continued on back into his living room. And she had no choice but to leave. She turned toward the front door but she didn't know where she was going. She would go home. Her mother was waiting on her. Her father was away on a trip. But he would be back in time for the shuttle.

"Charlie," she called back as she went toward the door, her hand reaching for the knob. She glanced over her shoulder and she was no longer in that front hallway. She was in the street once more, staring with wide eyes into the window of his house. And there was a second figure there, an older boy. They argued, the blond boy and the second boy as well. Dark-haired, dark-eyed. Arguing and resisting something. And then the dark-haired boy looked in her direction and she realized he had seen her, his face quickly turning away from her.

There was a flash. Her vision was blue. She was in water. But she wasn't drowning. And she was _freezing._ The blond boy's name caught in her throat again but she didn't remember then why she had called for him. Her eyes focused in the water, her hand smacking against a glass wall before her and she was in a vertical cylindrical tube.

A cylindrical tube filled with water.

Her heart came to a sudden fearful stop, her breath misting under a mask attached to her face. Not another cold sleep. Not again. She couldn't do it again. She couldn't-

Frantically she beat at the glass wall, kicking, screaming behind the mask. She couldn't do this. She couldn't do this.

A blurred figure appeared before her, standing outside the tube. Dressed in a dark suit with dark hair, tall and slender. And he looked as fearful as she felt. He lifted a hand to a console directly before the tube, a large desk of switches and buttons, and he was speaking to her but she couldn't hear him through the glass. She drew closer, her hands lifting to press against the cold surface and she saw it then. The familiarity to the man outside of her container. The dark-haired boy. And the sudden slight discoloration in the water around her. She lowered her head, breathing hoarsely into the mask. That was how she was getting air to breathe. Through a mask. Tears filled her eyes, tears of horror, and they were gone from her a moment later, the water surrounding her whisking them away, washing them away. She was aware of stifled sounds bouncing around her but _she_ was making those sounds. A small whimpering. She stared down as a small wisp of red color floated in the water around her and she followed it down to her breast, to two small holes in her chest. She was bleeding from holes in her breast.

The figure outside the tube pushed down on a small switch and his muffled voice suddenly echoed in the tube, in the water surrounding her. "Faye. Faye, you have to listen to me. You've come out of a drug-induced coma. I don't know how but I need to put you back under. At least for the next few hours. Do you feel any pain?"

She slid a hand down the glass of the cylindrical tube, aware that she floated off the floor. As she pressed herself to the glass she could make out the figure standing on the floor before her. The dark-haired boy. The Surgeon. "Jack," she whispered under the mask, her voice somehow sounding metallic. "Jack-"

"I'm right here, Faye," he said to her and his tone was soothing, soft and gentle. She recognized the voice and it sounded thick under water. Heavy. "Do you feel any pain?"

She hesitated a moment, blinking as she forced herself to listen to what he asked. Did she feel any pain? She couldn't tell. She was cold. And her entire body seemed almost numb. But there was no pain that she was aware of. She shook her head, her hair floating around her face lazily with the gesture.

The man nodded, a hand returning to his pocket, the other still hovering over several controls. "Ok. I'm going to put you under again. Just for a little bit," he said to her and his fingers moved over the controls expertly, turning a dial here and shifting another there. "And when you wake up you'll be good as new. Just close your eyes and go to sleep. I'm here."

She swallowed, her eyes closing as her frame slid down to the floor of the tube and then floated back up slowly. "Jack…I think…I think I'm bleeding…" she whispered blankly, her voice feeling raw and unused. "And I keep seeing…I keep seeing…"

"Keep seeing what, love?" he asked her, his voice comforting now.

Faye opened her eyes and her vision was blurred once more, her head feeling thick. She was tired. As if she hadn't slept for so long. "I keep seeing Charlie, Jack," she murmured. She felt her body bob in the water as her limbs became heavier, her fingers sliding down the smooth glass. "Do you…do you remember Charlie?"

There was a certain scent to the air she was inhaling, a strange bitter odor, but she couldn't put her thoughts in order to identify it. She blinked rapidly, attempting to stay awake but it was so cold and she felt warmth beckoning from the darkness hovering close by.

"I remember Charlie," Jack replied, his voice eerily faint around her, thick through the water. As if he spoke slowly to her, like a parent to a child. "Now go to sleep. You've had a long day."

She nodded dumbly, her eyes slipping closed. There was a song in her head and images of a blond boy. He had been close to her once, a long time ago. And one day he had vanished and she had gone to sleep. Just like this. Sleeping in water and waking in a world far, far away. "Will Charlie be there when I wake up?" she murmured, her voice trailing weakly. She felt her head fall forward, letting go then. "I want to see…"

Darkness swooped in once more.


	35. The Past

**Chapter Thirty - Four – The Past**

_"They say that if you talk to someone in a coma, that sometimes they hear you. That they hear you…and recognize the voice of a loved one. I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm a loved one, though."_

Spike nodded blankly, blindly, as Jet's contact went on about safety measures concerning the items he had just delivered. Spike didn't need safety measures or pep talks as he perused the selection he had just procured. He knew how it all worked. How to avoid getting killed by your own arsenal. All thanks to years of a syndicate. Of a stupid life.

_"I was on break from college. Boston. Majoring in Cryogenics. It's so long ago now. So damn long."_

He wouldn't be carrying too much. His Jericho was his prized possession. He had an extra Glock, one he had found in Faye's room when he had stormed in to search it. And he was taking his Swordfish with him. Because if he didn't come back, she wouldn't be coming back either. And the Swordfish was his. There would be no one else to ever use her. Of that he was adamant.

_"You had just moved to Raleigh. Relocated From Singapore. Your English was a bit accented. You were Japanese. Half. Your father's side. You get your green eyes from your mother."_

He would need numerous magazines for the Jericho. And he would have to take his trench coat. The coat had enough pockets to house everything else he would be carrying. He checked the current magazine. Full. He slipped it back in and snapped it into place. The Jericho was like an extension of himself.

_"Charlie and I were best friends. For years. But when I came back on break I had no time at first. To see anyone. Least of all him. I felt like the worst friend in the world. But he had found you in my absence. He had fallen in love with you. And so would I."_

The shirt Faye had torn was in his room, in the corner in a heap. He didn't know why he thought about it then. Only that it was on the floor.

_"The two of you were perfect for each other. I admit it, even now. But maybe Charlie saw something more in us, more than what I saw. I stopped hanging out with him because you were always there. And I think that hurt him."_

Spike let Jet deal with the contact for the rest of the time he was there. The money was exchanged. He didn't care. He had what he needed. He nodded to Jet silently, the older bounty hunter returning the gesture, and then he turned and headed toward his room without another word to either the bounty hunter or the contact.

_"And one day I was over at Charlie's house. And we talked. You came by for a bit, for a word. I was upstairs in his room. He was singing to you, dancing with you. And I watched you both from the top of the stairs. As if I had intruded on something…almost sacred between the two of you."_

In his room, Spike hesitated at the doorway, his eyes darting toward his shirt in the corner of his room. He had lied about Faye's pink album. Well at first it had been the truth. He really had buried it under dirty laundry. But then the laundry had been done and now the photo album was in his closet, tucked away overhead. He glanced toward the closet slowly, unwillingly. There was no reason to pull down that photo album. He didn't want to look at it. It wouldn't show him anything he didn't already know.

_"You told him you were going away for a little bit. On one of the new shuttles. He offered to pick you up when you returned. And then he saw me at the top of the stairs. He told me later that I'd had a look on my face. This look. As if…I'd been punched in the stomach."_

Heading toward his closet, Spike glanced at the yellow shirt in the corner of his room. The buttons would have to be sewn on again. Ah, fuck it, He would just get another shirt. He would keep that one, though. As a reminder of a very drunk night with an even drunker Faye.

_"You left the next day. Your father returned from a business trip and was going to take you and your mother. And Charlie and I spoke for hours and hours that night. I didn't want to tell him. What could I tell him? That it was love at first sight? I didn't know you. And I wasn't the type of person to betray my best friend."_

Pulling his closet open he reached up and dug behind several boxes on the level above his hanging clothes. His fingers passed over a frilly texture and he took hold of the photo album, pulling it down. After so many years, the photo album had been stained, soiled with rain and dirt. The edges were worn, the photos faded beneath torn and deteriorating wrap. But he still recognized the girl in the photos. And for the smallest moment then, catching a glimpse of the purple-haired girl, he thought her beautiful.

_"But even though he loved you, it's as if he saw something. Even as I told him that it was nothing, he saw something. And he backed off that day. Without you even knowing, he ended his relationship with you. He just never got to tell you because…there was the shuttle accident."_

Spike seated himself on the edge of his bed and opened the photo album fully on his lap. Photos of Faye Valentine, even though Valentine wasn't really her last name. Who knew what her last name was? One of her graduating, a wide smile on her face and her parents on either side of her. It was a good-looking family she'd had once. There was a photo of herself when she had been younger, in Singapore by the landmarks. Photos of Charlie Parkerson. And then he came across the one photo of her on Charlie's back with Jack in the background, faded with age.

_"He convinced me that day to go to you. That if it was going to happen, it should happen with me running after you. Like all those romantic films. Charlie was always a romantic at heart. With the flowers, the old-time music. The dancing. Dinners. He was everything you would have wanted. In the end I took a page from his book, I guess. You seemed to like that kind of thing."_

Spike stared at the picture for a long moment, his jaw clenched. He didn't understand any of it. He didn't know why Jack wanted her, only that he did and he knew things she herself couldn't remember. And he had no idea what any of it meant. But that didn't mean it was right to leave her behind with him. Not after she had told him only a couple of days before how much he frightened her. And for Faye Valentine to admit that something frightened her said a lot on its own.

_"Hours and hours convincing me to do it. That he had never seen something so pure on anyone's face. And I booked a flight on that shuttle without you knowing. The next day I was on that shuttle, a few seats back from you. When we landed I was going to tell you. I didn't even know what I was going to tell you. I was going to try to stay away from using the word love though because…what was love? Was it what I felt for you? I didn't even know you."_

He closed the photo album, his eyes shifting back toward the shirt in the corner of his room. There were still many pictures in the album but he had seen enough of it.

_"And then the shuttle had the accident."_

Slowly, Spike set the photo album aside, leaning over his knees and clasping his hands together. He doubted they had moved Faye. No matter how _superficial_ the wounds had been, whatever they were working on would either be in that building or Quicksilver Cryo, the building under contract with the Syndicate.

_"When I woke up, I'd been cryogenically frozen for thirty-five years. A little less. The companies that had been placed in charge of the cryogenic process were still in business. They woke me after they had finally caught up with the practices to heal me. And then they gave me a stipend and sent me on my way back to Earth. Out there into that…wreck of a planet."_

The door to his room swished open and he glanced up quickly. Jet stood in the doorway, a dark look on his face. Wordlessly, the heavier bounty hunter entered the room, a first aid kit in his hand. Still silently, he motioned to Spike's shoulder.

_"I never knew what happened to you. Every time I tried to contact the companies they wouldn't return my calls or answer my questions about you. And you weren't in the group of people who had been awakened with me. In the meantime I enrolled in college once more, this time on Mars since Earth was destroyed. And there was a new major, a new medical process. It was coined Restorative Practices. But it was all experimentation. And we were all lab rats in the end. We were all killed off. By the people who ran those labs. All a big secret, hush-hush. All those people experimented on, then murdered. Except me. Because by the time they came after me, the solution they had been feeding me, that they had been using on me, it had changed my body, my immune system. Like the fountain of youth in a daily serum."_

Spike sat up and only then realized how numb his shoulder felt. Like an idiot he hadn't even cleaned the wound when he had returned to the Bebop. He undid the suit jacket and tentatively pulled it off his frame, grimacing. Standing beside him, Jet set down the first aid kit on the bed and flicked it open.

_"And they didn't know it yet but when they came for me, to erase all their work, which included me, I was already a part of a Syndicate. They came after me, those doctors and their hired mercenaries, and they didn't know what kind of shit storm they were bringing down on themselves."_

Carefully, Spike unbuttoned his shirt, glaring down at the blood soiling his shoulder. He didn't feel anything from that side of his body. Jet sighed at the mess of it, shaking his bald head.

_"Until they tried to have me killed. By then not only was my body physically incapable of violent death but the Syndicate had hired me on to perfect the practice. They wanted members who were indestructible. And I was the perfect person to do it. My aging had finally stopped. Completely stopped. I healed small wounds within hours. Larger wounds took me a day. And all that time of being afraid. Afraid for my life. Afraid of being found out for what I was. It was for nothing. I was no longer afraid to die."_

Spike pulled off the shirt, grimacing, and Jet helped him after a silent moment. Moving his arm was a bit difficult. Though he felt no pain then, he wasn't going to kid himself. Once the wound was cleaned and bandaged, he was going to feel something. Better to take some painkillers before going back in.

_"And then one day, I was given an order in the Syndicate. Special operations, not the usual ones they would send me on. I was enlisted by Vicious. You remember the name. I shouldn't bring it up around you though. I need your body to heal. Which means no psychological trauma either."_

Jet cleaned the wound, swabbing it carefully with alcohol. Spike turned his face away, nostrils burning from the strong odor. He hated that smell. It reminded him of sterile hospitals and dirty back alleys. Of blood and pain.

_"Something had happened. A personal matter. He needed a few men for the deed and I was one of them. The execution of a man named Spike Spiegel. Also of the syndicate."_

Unwrapping several bandages, Spike held them out to Jet and bowed his head as the other bounty hunter taped them down. For a large, stocky man, Jet sometimes had an unbelievably light touch. And for that, at the moment, Spike was grateful.

_"We failed, needless to say. Or rather, we succeeded. We thought we had. Until three years later, Spike Spiegel showed up on our radar again. By then the Syndicate had begun to fall apart. I was incarcerated for a little bit on suspicion of murder. I managed to break out with the help of a child genius, a hacker. I took him on, the hacker, and through him I inherited the casinos and set up several bases of operation, to work on my medical practices. Not long after that Spike took the fight back to Vicious and the Syndicate. And this time Vicious died. Julia died. We thought Spike had finally died."_

Gauze was used to bind the shoulder. Spike shook his head when Jet attempted to tie his arm across his chest. He was going to need it free if he was heading back into that building. He hissed and then clamped down on the groan as Jet motioned for him to straighten the arm. Now he was feeling it.

_"And in that entire time, after all that, the hacker pulls up a file for someone I thought was long gone. Her name was Faye Valentine. No record of her anywhere in the ISSP databases except for the criminal file that says she surfaced three years ago and had a bounty on her head."_

Jet rolled up the remaining gauze, glancing at Spike as the leaner bounty hunter merely sat silently. After a moment Spike glanced at him and they exchange long looks, neither one wanting to break the silence.

_"I saw your face in that file, even on TV one day. An episode of Big Shots. I can't even say I remember the days after that. I literally think I shut down in complete shock."_

Gingerly, Spike rose, tossing the soiled shirt and jacket into the pile in the corner. Casualties of war. He drifted over toward his closet and pulled out a new shirt, a new suit jacket. And his trench coat. Behind him he heard Jet growl at him and begin to argue. He merely shook his head. One more. Just one more. Then a nice long break. A permanent break.

_"And you came up after Spike had died. Jet Black came to examine the body. Radical Edward returned not long after that. We knew everything, all this information. I think I watched your every move for months. Just to convince myself it was you. Because you looked nothing like the girl I had fallen in love with years ago."_

He dressed himself, buttoning the shirt slowly and then the leisure suit jacket. In just a few weeks he had filled his suit once more. When he had first returned, his suits had been large on him. He knew he had lost weight, from recuperating to disappearing. And now they fit him just right. Which was strange to him. His diet was roughly the same. Worse, in fact. He was constantly running around, not eating enough and getting shot seemingly every day. And yet he had regained his weight.

_"But it was a bad time. Even just watching you, keeping you under surveillance, you looked…like you had lost someone._

Could it be because he was here? Back in a place that he considered…home? With these crazy people that he could almost call a family?

_I dare say I had the same look on my face after waking up from the cold sleep. Waking up to find the world not the way you left it. Waking up to find the world wrong. I could see it on your face, how much you had cared for that bounty hunter."_

He sighed. He would think of that another time. At the moment he needed to finish up. He tucked in his shirt and turned back to Jet. He was going to have to start loading himself up with his artillery. Jet packed up the first aid kit silently, not looking his direction.

_"So when he returned, I thought it was a good time to finally meet. I had my hacker post a bounty on me. I wondered if you would find me familiar, find my face familiar. And even if you didn't I knew I would be someone you thought would be easy to catch. Someone worth it for the money because I knew you had none. And then you came for me. You took the bait."_

He was going to nap for a few hours. It would bring him full circle to the next night. And then he would go once more. Whatever the outcome, he doubted he would be coming back.

* * *

"The rest is history, as they say. But I think it's more than that. Even if we're not destined for each other, we were supposed to meet again. They wouldn't have thrown you back into my life if you weren't meant to figure into it somehow," Jack said in a quiet voice. He had been going on for a bit, he realized.

He lifted his dark eyes to the woman floating in the tube before him, his fingers releasing the switch for the speakers. He doubted she had heard a word he had said but sometimes it just felt good to tell his story. He gazed at her, eyes trailing over her peaceful features, over the hair floating in the water. It wasn't water. He had submerged her in gallons of the serum. Literal gallons. And he had been at work on it for years. Long enough to know what kind of effect it would have on her. Even the vaporized form of the serum was being fed to her through the oxygen mask. He lifted his fingers to the switches once more and then hesitated as he caught sight of the slender gold circle resting on the console not too far away from his left hand. A thin bracelet. The remote control to the Redtail. He had deliberated for a short while on what to do with the ship and in the end had decided to keep it once Faye recovered. Even if she decided not to stay with him in the end, he would not steal something so familiar from her. Not after everything else she had lost.

He was tired, he realized. The last few years had been dragging on him. Something told him that the end was in sight. He had some paperwork he needed done. Both his lawyer and accountant would be in to see him in a few hours. Perhaps a bit of a rest before he would see to them. He looked up at Faye once more, his lips parted. There was nothing else to really say at the moment. Nothing to do but wait and see.


	36. Plan B

**A/N:** I updated my profile so you guys have to read it because I put up a new site for the fics and for the soundtracks! So pls stop by and read and then visit the site. :)

* * *

**Chapter Thirty - Five: Plan B:**

When he left that night, he didn't tell anyone. He didn't need another worry fest. Waking himself up, dressing and preparing, he had smelled food floating toward his room. He was going to end up showing up to Black Jack's starving, it seemed. Opening his door and slipping on his coat, he hesitated. Jet was in the kitchen, staring silently into the wok of frying peppers. Not saying a word. But everything he was thinking was clearly on his face. He stared at him, thoughtfully, waiting. And the moment the stockier bounty hunter turned away toward the refrigerator he slipped out into the hallway and turned away from the kitchen. Passing through the common room, he caught sight of Ed seated on the metal table, Ein asleep at her side. He didn't pause, quickly climbing the stairs. Casting a look over his shoulder as he reached the top of the stairs, he slowed when he realized Ed was watching him.

"Spike-person going for Faye-Faye?" she asked solemnly, her goggles low over her eyes.

He nodded swiftly, silently.

She rewarded him with one of the softest smiles he had ever seen on her face. "Good luck," she said with a wave.

He smiled back at her. And then he disappeared into the hallway, trench coat floating around his tall frame.

* * *

Jet lifted his head as he heard the clang of the hangar doors open. He glanced down the hallway, thoughtfully and then turned and strode down the corridor, his hand slapping roughly on the console outside Spike's door.

The door swished open, the room empty.

"Ed!" he shouted, coming back to the doorway. Ed's head appeared, poking out into view from the common room.

"Hmm?" she asked curiously, blinking large amber eyes.

"Where is Spike?" he demanded.

Ed blinked a bit more, slender frame positioned at an awkward angle. "Spike-person went out," she replied and she vanished once more as she turned her attention back to her laptop.

Jet stormed down the corridor, his muscles stiff. He wouldn't have. He wouldn't have gone out without saying something. "Out where?" he barked at the net diver as he entered the common room.

Ed leaned back once more, her head tilting over onto her shoulders to look at him upside down. "Mars," she replied as if the question had been silly. And she righted herself yet again, hands coming down on the keyboard and tapping distractedly.

"But…" Jet hesitated, his tone softening. "He didn't say anything."

Ed shrugged absentmindedly, ducking a bit to stare at Tomato's screen. "Spike-person didn't want to worry Bebop," she murmured. And she glanced at him, turning her head slightly. "Spike-person went in for Faye-Faye."

Jet nodded, glancing up once more as the hangar doors clanged shut a moment later. "Yeah," he sighed. "And he doesn't even like her that much."

Ed didn't look up that time but a small smile crossed her lips as she tapped away.

* * *

This would be a piece of cake, he decided. He had done this before, one night over three years before. Almost four years now. He had gone in to the syndicate headquarters and he had walked into a waiting bloodbath. And then he had done it once more, less than a year earlier. One bloodbath after another. He had seen so much blood, had gotten so much of it on him that even after he showered he was still soaked in it. It just wouldn't come off anymore. He looked down at his hands on his controls, one gloved hand over the accelerator, and he had thrown out his old gloves because they had been red. Red gloves, red blood. There was always blood. Now he had on a pair of black gloves. It would only be a matter of time before these also would be soiled with someone's blood.

And who was he even doing this for? Faye? Faye _Valentine?_ His hands tightened on his controls, his jaw clenching. They were barely friends and here he was risking his life for her. Granted, she had never asked for his help. In fact, she had been of the entirely opposite mindset when it had come to confronting Black Jack. But he didn't owe her anything. He never had. And now even more so.

_"Your true colors. They're finally coming through."_

He was a downright ass for doing this. He was going to get himself killed for her. And he couldn't even know whether she was even alive to begin with. He stared out into the open night, at the clouds barely moving above him.

Her star was still shining overheard, hidden occasionally by the clouds. Hidden but present. He was going to believe then that she was still alive. No matter how pale and distant that star seemed.

* * *

Setting down the Swordfish across the street from the building, Spike examined the height of the structure. And he managed to suppress the smile that threatened to come to life when he saw the shattered windows of the 29th floor. Obviously his little grenade had caused at least some damage to the floor. The repairs were underway as was evident from the cranes on the street and also hanging over the roof of the skyscraper but it seemed the workers had gone home for the night.

He scanned the area around him. The Redtail was gone. He hadn't been able to take it with him when he had left with Ed and it seemed Black Jack had taken care of the ship once he had escaped. Which meant he would have to rescue Faye _and_ her damn ship.

Hopping out of his cockpit he secured the ship and paused a long moment, digging into his pocket for his box of cigarettes. He pushed aside several small grenades to get to the box casually.

The building was going to look beautiful when it was torn apart in flames and destruction.

He smoked a single cigarette in the night, gazing up at the skyscraper. Such a quiet and lovely night. "Sorry," he murmured to no one as he flicked away the butt of the cigarette. "But I'm about to make a mess." And with that he strode forward, hopping over the edge of the roof onto the fire escape to climb down. Within moments he was on the ground, taking his sweet time crossing the street to the glass doors of the skyscraper.

Plan B would always trump Plan A in his opinion. It was better to just barge in through the front than the back. Or the roof.

Pushing the rotating glass doors, he sauntered in, one hand slipping into his pocket. The security console to his right was bare except for one lonely guard. The wall rounded behind the console, leading off down a small corridor and vanishing. As he walked in the guard immediately snapped to his feet, his jaw dropping open.

"I guess you recognize me, huh?" Spike questioned him quietly. And with a small shrug he pulled forth his Jericho and lifted it, aiming.

The guard dove for the console, a hand reaching to the controls.

Spike pulled the trigger, putting an easy bullet into the guard's chest. The man toppled with a muffled grunt and Spike turned his head straight once more, his jaw set. He wasn't going to care this time around about being careful or quiet or sneaky. This was the full blown attack he was used to, the one he had wanted from the beginning when devising a plan to take Jack down. He had tried Ed's way and now he was reverting to his own way of handling it. Striding across the lobby, he frowned as he heard movement coming from the bend behind the security console. And instinctively, irritation crossing his features, he dug into his pocket, drawing his Jericho close to his side. Pulling forth a small round grenade, he popped the pin and absentmindedly flung it, darting toward the elevators.

The sound of glass shattering deafened him as the grenade exploded, the concussive force blowing his coat around his legs and shoving him across the floor. With a slight arch to an eyebrow he glanced back over the way he had tossed the grenade, squinting through the smoke.

"Ooh, I like these grenades," he said quietly, eyes widening. "Good going, Jet."

A sudden shrill alarm sounded then, his head snapping up. That was his cue right there. Quickly, he moved toward the elevator and clapped his hand on the up button. Outside the lobby cars were screeching to a halt, horns blowing and scattered people outside beginning to scream in terror. He looked back over quickly and darted in through the elevator doors instantly as they came open. Once inside he slammed his hand down on the 25th floor and lifted the Jericho, aiming at the security camera stationed in the upper left hand corner. One bullet destroyed it as the doors closed and he wasted no time holstering his Jericho and looking up at the ceiling of the elevator.

Soothing music came on, bringing him a confused stop. "Wow. Elevator music? Really?" he sighed in defeat. And he lifted his hands up, smashing a fist into, and dislodging, a flat aluminum sheet from the roof. Tilting it upward he pushed the sheet aside to give him access to the elevator shaft. Without another word he hopped up, taking hold of the edge and he hefted himself up, disappearing through the gap.

The elevator was climbing amazingly fast, he noted as he made it up and stood on top of the elevator. He glanced up and around himself, the speed of the elevator whipping his hair around his face. He gauged the distance critically. He would reach the 25th floor in another few moments and from there he could climb up the elevator cables to get onto the 28th floor. He could scale three floors, no problem. His initial worry was being beaten to the punch. If they knew where he was going and which way he was getting there, they would make sure to get there first. Which meant a bit of confusion and mayhem on his part. And he wasn't even sure he would be able to fool them. Once Black Jack's security regrouped they would probably block off all the elevators and exits, guarding the way straight to Black Jack himself.

As the elevator slowed, he examined the doors that flew past him. He hadn't been able to pry those doors open before but he hadn't had any kind of tools to use. This time he was very much prepared. Reaching into the waistband of his pants he pulled out a switchblade and flicked it open, bringing it to his mouth and clenching it horizontally between his lips. And as the elevator came to a stop with a muffled ding, he took hold of the cable and began to heft himself up. After two floors of hoisting himself along the cable his muscles began to hurt, his gunshot wound pulling at him.

He had forgotten to take those painkillers.

After scaling the last stretch he reached the 28th floor and glanced toward the doors, examining them. They seemed very solidly shut. Unwinding his legs from the cable he reached one out and set it down on the slight ledge afforded him from the 28th floor doorway, stretching out with one hand to take hold of the elevator framework. It wasn't much of a ledge but just enough to dig his fingers into it to hold him. Carefully he released the cable with his other hand and flattened himself immediately to the doors, breathing heavily around the knife clenched between his lips. That was enough of a workout for the day.

Releasing the frame just to take hold of the knife, he twisted it to grasp the handle and drove the blade in between the closed doors. It slid in and caught and he twisted it to the side, teeth clenching as the doors fought him. He just needed a slight part to stick his fingers in. Just one tiny inch. Muscles tightening, he forced more effort, quite aware that either the doors would give or his blade would. But he would be damned before he allowed his knife to snap.

The doors began to part, separating, and he quickly dragged his hand away from the doorframe to take hold of one door, nearly losing his balance. It would be a miserable drop to his death, he thought grimly. Definitely not the way he would want to go. Through the slight part he became aware of the alarms blaring once more. Yanking his blade out, he returned it to his mouth and brought his free hand to grasp the other door, now maintaining himself from the shaft by his grip alone. Pulling them apart just enough, he shoved a foot between them to hold them from each other and rested momentarily.

He didn't even like the wench.

Shaking his head, he resumed his efforts to pull the doors apart, inching them open bit by bit until there was enough of a gap to allow him to slip in. Squeezing through the doors, he stumbled in and paused for another breather, pulling the blade from his mouth and closing it. Returning the switchblade to his pocket, he stared as the elevator doors remained parted, breathing harshly. Perhaps he should have waited longer than a day for a rescue attempt. He hunched over, stretching and rotating his arms to ease the strain of his muscles.

The elevator dinged faintly from the shaft and he turned his head to look toward the console on the wall, his eyes resting on the down arrow as it lit up.

No, that just would not do.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out another small grenade and then straightened, moving toward the parted elevator doors. Pulling the tiny pin free he tossed the small item in and immediately moved to push the doors closed again. He doubted much of the explosion would reach him once the grenade went off but he didn't want to ruin his coat either.

Sliding the doors shut was easier than opening them. And a few moments later, as the elevator dinged far below, the burst sounded, shaking the floor under his feet. He smiled evilly, darting backward from the elevator doors and then spun around to search the floor. The mysterious 28th floor. The lights were dimmed here, the floor carpeted and almost cozy. Pulling out his Jericho once more he strode down the hall cautiously, feeling a bit let down.

This was supposed to be the big showdown and there didn't seem to be anyone around to care.

Striding past an emergency exit, he looked ahead once more, his eyes falling on the office at the end of the hall. He remembered the office doors from the recording the snitch had died for. It seemed like such a long time ago now. Wearily, his face pinched, Spike raised his Jericho and fired off three rounds into the glass doors for good measure, the pane smashing and falling to pieces on the carpeted floor. And through the gaping holes left behind he saw the slightest movement as someone recoiled.

Feeling anger now well up inside him Spike took the rest of the corridor running, lifting his legs and crashing through what remained of the glass doors. The doors were flung open under his weight, glass sprinkling the carpet and he already had the Jericho aimed when he caught sight of the young man darting behind Jack's desk, up against an entire wall of floor to ceiling windows. Following him with the weapon, he put two bullets into the top of the wooden desk, already snarling. "Don't move!"

There was complete silence from behind the desk but he wasn't about to be fooled.

"Stand up. Slowly," he ordered, the Jericho unwavering in his grasp, the alarm drowning out bits of his sentence. "If you don't I have no problem killing you."

The person behind the desk did not come out.

With an inward sigh, Spike took a step and kicked off, leaping onto the desktop and quickly lowering his Jericho toward the figure crouching there. "I asked nicely the first time. This time I'm not asking. Get up."

The boy lifted piercing blue eyes to him, his hands lifting at his sides slowly.

Spike motioned with a quick jerk of his weapon. "Up. Straight up. And to the side so I can get off this damn table."

Silently, the hacker rose to his full height, hands still raised. An eyebrow arching defiantly, the boy stepped to his right and away from the desk.

Still aiming the weapon at him, Spike hopped off the table down to the floor. "Just the person I think I need," he said to the boy with a slight smile.

The hacker hesitated, his head tilting slightly at his words.

Glancing around, Spike caught sight of the boy's laptop on the floor. "Where is my friend? Is she alive?" he asked the hacker, his tone demanding.

The boy did not respond, his jaw clenching.

Mirroring his gesture, Spike took a step forward, now pressing the barrel of his weapon against the boy's smooth forehead. "I'm really not going to ask again. Either you tell me or I come back with my own hacker and figure it out myself." And he motioned to the upended laptop on the floor.

With a small twist to his lips, the boy answered in slightly accented English, speaking loudly to be heard. "Your friend is down in the sub-levels."

Spike blinked at that. "What's in the sub-levels?" he questioned, frowning.

"The cryolabs."

Spike managed to bite back the groan that threatened to slip out of him. Damn, she was going to _destroy_ him when he got her back. That was all she needed, another cryosleep. He could already feel the pain she would try to inflict on him.

"You can't just move her," the boy said to him, bringing his attention back. "McCullough-san placed her in a deep sleep. She's hurt."

Spike felt his muscles clench. "Yeah, I get that. But I'd rather someone else look at her now, thanks." And he motioned to the laptop. "Grab the laptop. You're going to do me a small favor before I let you go."

The boy stared at him. "Let me…go?" he asked him as if he didn't quite believe him.

"Yes. Let you go. But favor first. Grab the laptop."

Wordlessly but still looking confused the Asian boy moved slowly toward the laptop and then bent over to pick it up. Holding it in his grip he glanced at Spike.

"Have a seat. At the desk," Spike ordered loudly, motioning with the Jericho.

The hacker silently moved back toward the desk, his blue eyes skimming the top of the bullet ridden surface. Placing the laptop down to cover the holes, he seated himself gingerly at the desk and waited for Spike.

"Ok, so I need you to knock out all security cameras and password consoles. If you would be so kind," Spike said with a sigh, glancing toward the doorway intently. It was possible there would be security guards on their way to Jack's office but at the moment he heard nothing except the blaring alarm. He skimmed the office with his eyes, taking in all details and thinking furiously. Floor to ceiling windows made up the entire south wall of the office. And he remembered those windows from the day the snitch had died, from the recording and also from flying past them. He remembered seeing Jack at one of those windows, his face dark, the snitch's body indenting a car far below. Spike caught sight of one side of the wall of windows. Window curtain cord. Lovely.

The hacker was slow in doing as he had been asked.

Circling him to see over his shoulder, Spike took a moment to observe his work. Password upon password and he also had small smiley faces as he bypassed security systems. "Don't you have your own passwords?" he demanded of the boy.

The boy threw him a withering look. "Of course I have my own passwords. But the system went into lockdown once you began to blow up the building. The system doesn't recognize passwords and codes now. I have to bypass all security checkpoints the hard way."

Spike growled deep in his throat, impatient. "Well see if you can move a bit faster then," he ordered. And he moved toward the curtains where they had been secured at posts on either side of the windows. Reaching into his pocket, his eyes on the hacker, he pulled out his blade once more and opened it with a flick of his wrist.

The hacker's shoulders flinched at the sound, his fingers slowing momentarily. But then, warily, he continued on once more, his smiley faces littering the laptop screen.

With a smooth motion, Spike bent and swiped the blade across the bottom of a curtain rope, easily severing it. The hacker glanced over his shoulder as the curtain fell loose and obscured some of the moonlight trailing in but Spike motioned for him to continue with his Jericho, his jaw tight.

The hacker turned back to his laptop, fingers resuming their work.

Standing on tiptoe, Spike cut the rope close toward the top of its length, stepping away as the rope fell into a small pile at his feet. Closing the switchblade up once more, he returned it to his pocket and stooped to pick up the rope with his free hand, winding it around his hand and elbow to loop it.

"I'm done," the hacker said quietly, sitting up straight. And sure enough, a moment later the alarm cut off, silence settling over them.

Spike strode over to him, tilting his weapon and putting two bullets into the screen of the laptop. "Great," he said as the boy jumped slightly. Propping the looped curtain rope around his shoulder, he took hold of the laptop by the edge of the screen and then turned toward the window. Lifting his Jericho he blew random shots at the glass, creating spider cracks across its surface. The hacker watched him with a slight frown, now looking the smallest bit worried.

Seeming almost bored, Spike flung the laptop at the window, not even registering the glass as it shattered. The hacker made a small sound of defeat as the laptop sailed out into the night, small shards of glass following its fall.

"Yeah, it sucks," Spike agreed. And he turned to the hacker once more, a smile lighting his face. "And now I'm going to tie you up."

The hacker stared at him, color draining from his face as Spike pulled the rope from his shoulder.

And a moment later an explosion rocked the building, Spike faltering as the floor underneath him shook. Frowning and sliding slightly, he lifted his weapon toward the hacker as the boy lunged to his feet. "What the hell was that?" he demanded of the boy.

The hacker looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "That wasn't you?" he asked him.

"No, that wasn't me!" Spike snapped at him. And he wound the rope around his shoulder once more, taking hold of the hacker by the shirt and shoving him ahead of him. Pressing the gun to the back of the boy's head he barked at him. "Walk!"

Stumbling, the hacker allowed him to push him on ahead, moving gingerly toward the door Spike had barged in through. The password console beside the door was offline, the usual lights dim. At least the consoles were down as he had asked. He stopped the hacker with a stiff grip and leaned over slightly to look through the broken glass of the doorframe.

The corridor was still empty.

"You said she was downstairs. In the sub-levels, right?" he questioned the hacker, pressing the Jericho to his back, directly between his shoulder blades.

The hacker nodded silently, head bowing slightly at feeling the Jericho's barrel at his back.

"Ok. Thanks for all your help," Spike said to him. And he lifted his Jericho, bringing the butt down roughly on the back of the hacker's head.

The hacker toppled without a sound, slipping to the carpeted floor.

With a small groan, Spike bent and took hold of the hacker's collar, immediately dragging him to the side. Leaning him against the wall, he unwound the curtain rope from his shoulder and bent to the task at hand.

* * *

Jack lifted his head from the console as all power failed around him. Blinking in the sudden darkness he waited for a long moment, counting down. And then, within the first five counts, the lights turned back on, the backup generator kicking in. He glanced toward Faye's figure in the cryo-chamber and she hadn't moved in the cylinder when the power had gone down.

The fact that the generators had turned on meant that something had happened in the above levels, to his online systems. He moved toward the security console beside the doors to the lab and hesitated as he realized that they were offline. Stiffening slightly, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a small communicator.

"Kazuo," he growled into it, waiting for a response. And when there was no immediate response he tried again. "Oi, Kazuo."

No one answered.

Frowning, he changed tactic. "Scat!"

The response came within moments. "Scat here."

Jack went to speak, breaking off when he heard the sudden commotion coming from the thicker man's side of communication. "What the hell is going on up there?" he demanded.

The man on the other line hesitated. "You know those security guys who shot at Valentine?"

Jack's fingers tightened on the communicator. "What about them?"

"The ones whose families you had picked up and…taken care of?"

_"What about them?"_ Jack shouted into the communicator.

Scat's voice lowered into a mumble, the commotion in his background tempering slightly. "They're here. And they're looking for you."

* * *


	37. Sterile White Walls

**A/N:** I got a few reviews I couldn't respond to since they weren't logged-in reviews but nonetheless, ty for them. :)

**Chapter Thirty Six - Sterile White Walls:**

He was going to have to take the stairs again. He hated stairs now. Especially staircases that had an entry on every floor. He cursed himself for having taken out the elevator. There was always the freight elevator but who knew how those were currently operating, or if they were operating at all.

Racing down the sterile hallway he slid to a halt beside the exit staircase, looking through the pane of glass. The lights in the staircase were blinking haphazardly, tossing an eerie glow over the steps. Glancing back the way he had come, he knew if anyone came looking they would know exactly who had come tonight. He had left glass littering the carpet outside Jack's office, the hacker stashed inside under the desk. Turning back to the exit door he mentally sighed and took that route, coming out onto the landing and glancing upward toward the roof.

Had it really only been a day since he had come this way with Ed and Faye? It seemed so much longer somehow. He looked down toward the landings below and all the lights were flickering as if they had been smashed or damaged. Cautiously, he began to climb down, aware that he could hear some sort of commotion far off but he couldn't tell where it was coming from exactly. The sub-levels meant he would have to head back toward the main floor and then find a way further down. But if the elevators and password consoles were down, he had no idea how he was going to accomplish it. Only that he had bought himself some time to make his way to them.

Which also meant that if anyone was coming for him, they would have to use the emergency staircases.

He hurried then, taking the landings and staircases as if he flew, unaware that he was even taking steps. Only that stairs were flashing past him as he raced and hopped from one landing to the next, stumbling at times and sliding others. The floor numbers flew by him as well as he made his way down, from the twenties to the teens until he stopped along the fifth warily. So much noise and commotion. The further down he had climbed, the noisier it had become but still there was no one in the emergency staircases. He paused on the fifth floor landing and peeked through the glass looking out into the floor but he saw nothing except more flickering lights. Sporadic bursts of electricity.

It was possible they weren't even after him, he understood then. If someone else had set off that explosion, it was possible someone else had come with a score to settle concerning Black Jack. He hesitated, his fingers tightening around the trigger of his Jericho. What were the chances someone else had come along to take him out as well? And wasn't the enemy of his enemy his friend?

He shook his head at that one. He didn't need friends like those. He only had one thing to do here before he could leave. And that was to get to the sub-levels and locate Faye.

Taking the staircases one more level, he had barely made it to the fourth floor before a door banged open below, voices filling the corridor. Immediately, without even thinking, he flung open the emergency exit door before him and threw himself back into the complex. Slipping sideways, pressing against the wall as the door slid shut silently, he listened intently as footsteps pounded up the staircases, reaching the fourth floor and then continuing onward, the flickering bulbs lighting the way. Cautiously, he peered out through the pane of glass in the emergency exit door, frowning when he realized that the men in the staircase wore no uniform but were heavily armed.

"Ok. Not security," he murmured, observing them as they continued on up the staircases. He glanced down the hallway he stood in, Jericho pressed to his side at the ready. All that greeted him was a gaping hole where the elevator had once been. That had been his fault, he thought with a mental sigh. In retrospect, perhaps taking out the elevator had been a bad idea. But at this point, continuing down the emergency staircase would also be a bad idea. But other than the freight elevators he had no other way to descend to the sub-levels. He would have to give those freight elevators a go.

Pulling away from the wall, he ducked under the pane of glass in the exit door as he swept past, keeping himself low. He moved down the hallway, glancing around as he went. This part of the complex still seemed to be made of offices, with names on doors and password consoles dormant.

Taking several turns as the floor went on, he found the elevator at the end of the corridor. And upon reaching it, he felt a small chill run down his spine as he realized there was no electricity to power the freight elevator to take him down to the sub-levels. "Shit," he grumbled. And he should have known this was going to be a problem but he had just wanted to get _down_ to the sub-levels. Time felt as if it was running out on him and to be in the building with heavily armed people was beginning to poke at him in a bad way. He lifted his head, his palm pressing to the doors of the elevator. He could pry it open the way he had with the other elevator doors. But then the problem persisted. He didn't know how far down the sub-levels were, how many floors he would have to climb down to reach them. He could try to make it back toward the emergency exits but even if there was no one to stop him from reaching the main floor again he didn't know how to make it down to the sub-levels from the main floor.

But he wasn't one to give up either. It would just take a bit more thought to figure out a way to-

The elevator console suddenly blinked to life, the up and down arrow buttons flickering momentarily before flaring up with a steady yellow glow. Spike stared at it, suspiciously at first, a frown creasing his brow. The hacker had cut all the power. He had made sure of it. Did Black Jack have another hacker up his sleeve, pulling him out only when his first failed him?

Reluctantly, Spike pushed the down arrow button.

Down below, the freight elevator made a small dinging sound. And then came the low rumble of the elevator as it began to climb up toward him. Spike cocked his head to listen, his fingers tightening once more on his Jericho's trigger. Taking a step back, he waited as the freight elevator reached the fourth floor and he already had his weapon aimed when the doors slid open with a soft swish.

There was no one inside.

Swinging the Jericho tightly, he took a step and peeked upward, the Jericho following his eyes but the small space in the elevator was empty. He pushed a foot out against one of the edges of the elevator to keep it open and he glanced in at the elevator buttons. They numbered from the Lobby to the top floor and his eyes came to rest on the blank gray button just below the button for the main floor.

The hacker had said sub-levels. Plural.

Clenching his jaw, Spike entered the elevator fully and punched at the blank button, lowering the Jericho slightly. This whole thing was a disaster for him waiting to happen. But as the elevator doors closed he realized he was unafraid. A bit on the tense side but standing in the middle of the freight elevator, knowing where he was going but uncertain how he was going to get there, he suddenly felt a sense of relief in knowing that everything he was doing was out of his control. Just something he had to do with no way of knowing how or where it would end up. Sometimes he was happy following life, fate. But sometimes he liked to be in control of his life. The elevator ride, with the past behind him and the future waiting for him, left him both at ease and relieved.

What was life except an uncertain path in the end?

The freight elevator slowed and stopped several moments later. And as the doors opened he lifted his Jericho, keeping it aimed ahead of him. But there was no one on the other side of those doors. Nothing greeted him except sterile gray floors and white walls. If he had suspected the upper levels of being uncontaminated and clean, this was an entirely new take on the concept. He slowly left the freight elevator, caution forcing him to keep his weapon gripped tightly before his tense frame. On this level he became aware of the fact that the power running through this part of the facility was unwavering. There were no flickering lights, no change in temperature, and no scent of destruction in the air. This was clean air, a cool setting and complete silence.

"This is a lab," he uttered, realizing a moment later he had spoken aloud. He clamped his mouth shut, coming out into the corridor. Doors on either side of him remained closed and password protected, the sound of power thrumming all around him steadily. Back up generators? There had to be something big down here. He moved down the silent hallway, one foot in front of the other, almost floating. There was something undeniably eerie about this sub-level, downright spooky. He'd been in labs before, operated on. He'd even blown up labs before. But there was something strange and almost horrifying about this complex. Something sinister.

Reaching the end of the hallway he took a slight turn and came up on three doors. Another set of emergency staircases. Another elevator, fully functional. And one last door with a password console, the red light seeming to glare at him as it denied him access.

If Faye was in that room, how was he to know?

The password console before him beeped in the silence, the sound echoing around him. Stiffening, glancing over his shoulder back the way he had come, he blinked as the red light suddenly lit up green. Backing away a step, he merely stared as the doors swished open, revealing a large gray chamber to him. Beside him, the elevator also beeped before the doors swished open for him.

"This whole fucking place is haunted," he growled, uncertain whether to move or remain where he stood but knowing that he wanted to shoot something to make the threat real.

Glancing back toward the chamber, he leaned in a bit to search the room. There were several large control panels fixed into consoles throughout the room, all positioned directly before tall, cylindrical tubes. He stared, his lips parting. Cryolabs, the hacker had said to him. This was a cryolab. An empty cryolab. Spike took a small step forward, his eyes searching the consoles but they seemed to be offline, dormant. Faye wasn't in any of those tubes. Taking that same step back, Spike turned his head toward the elevator, reluctant. This wasn't the same elevator he had destroyed. Moving cautiously toward the elevator, he glanced in at the buttons against the wall panel.

There were four buttons. Three of them labeled Cryolabs, the last button labeled Medlab. He was currently on the upper level of the sub-levels, Cryolab One. Pulling back from the elevator, he glanced toward the emergency exit and peered through the pane of glass.

He preferred emergency exits over elevators anyway.

Leaning his weight on the bar, he pushed open the emergency exit, lifting his Jericho to the staircase directly before him. It led up one long staircase to a single door labeled Exit in brilliant red. Pointing the Jericho downward, he hesitated from taking a step, needing to hear for a moment. There was nothing but the sound of electricity, of the backup generators. Slowly, haltingly, Spike took the staircase down, coming onto the mid-landing and peering down to the second landing below. Nothing but silence. Climbing down, he found himself on the second sub-level, reaching out to open the door warily. It came open silently, a blast of cool air pushing his hair back slightly as he poked his head through the door to look in. He was in another hallway, just as sterile as the ones above, but this one seemed to have more labs, more rooms. Lining the entire floor, all the password consoles were lit up green. All seeming to invite him.

Someone was definitely on his side. But he refused to believe it was a higher power.

All the offices he looked into were empty. Even the cryolab stood empty, all the cylindrical tubes lifeless. Which left one more floor of labs and the medical bay. He found a second emergency staircase at the end of the floor, spinning around as a second elevator on the far side suddenly uttered a soft ding. Instantly, he flung himself through the emergency exit and pressed to the wall as the door slipped shut behind him. The elevator made another small sound, now muffled through the emergency doors. Careful to stay as low as he could, Spike glanced through the pane of the window as someone flew past the emergency exit, dressed in a dark suit. And he knew that figure.

Half of him wanted to burst out after him, demand to know where Faye. The other part of him understood that it could quite possibly be easier to do the searching himself with Black Jack occupied elsewhere. He waited, listening as the man searched the entire floor before returning to the elevator and disappearing into it. Even as the doors were closing behind him, Spike was already making his way down. Pausing outside the door leading to the third cryolab floor, he glanced in the direction of the elevator. It had stopped on the first sub-level. Black Jack seemed to be making his way up to his complex above ground. He was going to be in for a big surprise when he got out.

Pulling open the door he slipped in, glancing around. Completely silent and sterile. Searching the doors, he floated down the hallway, searching for the cryolab itself. This was the last one. She had to be in that lab. If she wasn't he could only hope to find her in the Medlab. And if she wasn't there he would have to track down Jack and force him to spill Faye's whereabouts. He moved down the corridor, racing past offices and taking turns haphazardly. Rounding about to the other side of the floor, he slowed upon reaching the second emergency exit and elevator. And one last lab, the password console lit green. Drawing near, he pressed his palm to the console, the doors swishing open.

Entering through the doors, Spike slid to a dead stop, his lips parting.

This was obviously the only operating cold room. He stared, drawing closer to the cylindrical tubes spread vertically throughout the large room, his eyes caught by the very first and foremost tube. Bordered on one side by a control console, Faye hovered in blue water in the cylinder, her eyes closed, her figure nude. Her hair floated on bubbles that slipped free of the tube lining and drifted up toward the surface. She seemed unconscious, her limbs floating limply in the fluid, her bare feet hardly touching the cylinder floor. Encasing her mouth and nose was an oxygen mask, her chest rising and falling with subtle breaths.

Heart beating just a bit irregularly, Spike came to and quickly searched the room for medical personnel or technicians, instantly lifting his Jericho cautiously. But there was no one in the room except himself and Faye. And she was not conscious to care herself. Drawing closer to the cylinder, a frown crossing his brow, Spike studied her for a long moment silently. Then, warily, he lifted a hand and pressed it to the glass of the tube.

Faye's eyes slid open slightly as if sensing him, her gaze unfocused.

"Faye." His voice came low at first. But then, as he moved closer to the tube, he spoke louder to rouse her. "Faye."

Her eyes fluttered sleepily, closing for a long moment before opening again. And then she seemed to see him, her vision focusing. Behind the oxygen mask he could make out his name on her lips as she mouthed it faintly, her eyes losing their focus for the smallest moment before seizing it once more. Her arm shifted, her hand lifting and upsetting several more bubbles around her frame. And then she was touching the glass from her side, fingers trailing across his palm pressed to the tube.

His eyes skirting down, they came to rest on her breastbone. There, healing very quickly, were two holes, her pale skin puckering around the wounds. "Restorative practices," he murmured, and he looked toward her shoulder where that gunshot wound was healing as well, void of the stitches Jet had left there. Her bruises were gone, her face a light blue in the shade of the tube sheltering her.

"I think…you are one of the luckiest people I have ever known," he whispered distractedly through barely moving lips, his eyes searching out any other wound that he remembered her having. In but a few days there would be nothing left of those bullet wounds except faint scars.

Shaking himself and pulling away slightly, Spike examined the cylindrical tube housing her. He doubted it was bulletproof but he was well aware that a single bullet would not shatter that glass the way he needed it to break. His eyes darted toward the console, catching on the swivel chair there. "As if it was waiting for me," he murmured with an inward smile. He left the tube to take hold of the chair, and paused halfway through the motion, his eyes catching sight of a small golden band on the control panel before the cylinder. The remote control to the Redtail. "Oh, someone definitely likes me up there," he whispered. He snatched it up, shoving it into his pocket and then reached for the swivel chair, dragging it back to his position before the cylinder. He turned back toward Faye, aware that she watched him weakly, barely conscious. "You're going to owe me for this one, Romani."

He almost convinced himself that she had read his lips and then smirked at him. But when he looked again her eyes had drifted shut, her lips parting.

Stepping back several feet, he lifted his Jericho and aimed. A moment later he let loose a shot, hearing it punch into the glass of the cylinder, Faye's eyes opening once more in a tired frown. He fired a second round, a foot off from the first and it also cracked the glass, small rivulets of the clear liquid leaking out. One last shot completed a triangle, spider cracks weaving from each and intertwining to mask Faye's form behind it. Putting away his Jericho, Spike moved toward the chair, lifted it into his hands and then swung it roughly at the cylinder.

Glass shattered loudly, almost angrily. And water instantly poured, drenching the front of his suit and his legs as he set the chair down. A moment later Faye came falling out through the cracked glass and he darted forward to catch her reflexively. She was dead weight in his arms and he realized a moment later that getting her out of the facility was going to be tougher than he had initially expected. He quickly ripped the oxygen mask from her face, tossing it back into the shattered tube, and he shook her. "Hey. Hey! Faye, wake up."

Her eyes slid open again, her gaze unfocused.

His mouth tightened as he examined her. "Faye, do you hear me?" he demanded. He dragged her out slowly, almost frantically. He was certain now that _someone_ knew where he was in the building. Someone had to. At this point he was going to have to move for all he was worth. Lifting her to pull her legs through the jagged glass left behind of the cylinder, he dropped to his knees, dragging her limp frame with him. "There's no…possible chance you could walk out of here with me, is there? Maybe save me some trouble?" he asked her wistfully.

Her head fell back, her eyes shutting once more.

"I'm going to take that as a no," he sighed. And he supported her upper body between his knees, draping her frame across his chest and quickly releasing her to pull off his overcoat. It was a bit tough balancing her, maintaining his own stability and attempting to pull the coat off in a hurry. He glanced once more toward the door of the cold room. If guards burst through that door he had no way to hold them off, especially not at the moment. Dragging off his coat he shook it open and draped it over Faye's frame, tucking it around her limbs. "Ok, we're going on a small trip," he said to her and he flipped her over, aware that she was a dead weight in his arms. Grunting through clenched teeth he buttoned the coat over her and slowed slightly when he became aware of small rivulets of red trail across her slick skin. Blood was running down her chest, very slight watery trails of blood. After a moment he continued to button the coat over the trails and then slipped an arm under the back of her knees, his other arm winding under her back. Still no one at the door. Glancing over yet again he waited one small moment before finally rising to his feet, Faye's unconscious form cradled in his arms. "Hey, maybe you can carry my gun? Make yourself useful while I get us out of here?" he suggested, aware that a small spike of apprehension had streaked through him at the sight of the blood.

She didn't bother replying.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," he murmured. And he moved toward the doors of the cryolab.

* * *


	38. Red Light, Green Light

**A/N:** Sorry this is so late and so short but ty for the reviews and Happy Labor Day all!! :)

**Chapter Thirty Seven – Red Light, Green Light:**

Coming out of the cryolab, Spike glanced toward the elevator. The staircase would be better. And while he was pretty strong, he doubted he could carry Faye for long with the strength in his arms alone. The night he had carried her unconscious form when they had crash landed in the desert had been a different story. He'd literally put his back into that one. Not to mention the fact that carrying her like this left him completely defenseless. He was beginning to dislike this little rescue mission more and more.

Darting down the hallway, he turned his back to the door of the emergency staircase and pushed it open, swinging carefully to pull Faye out. And just as he took a step, he heard a door above bang open a moment later. Instinctively, thrusting his leg out to keep the door open behind him, he immediately backed onto the third sub-level once more, cursing inwardly. He didn't know who it was and he didn't care. He just couldn't get caught, exposed the way he was. He glanced down the corridor the way he had come, searching the closed office doors. Without another thought he went for one, not caring which one, and knocked his shoulder into the console, slipping in as the doors opened for him. Spinning back around, he pressed the console once more, the doors sliding shut softly. Turning to examine the room, he found himself in a small sterile office, filing cabinets lining a wall, a desk pushed against the opposite corner of the room. Carefully, he took a few steps in and placed Faye onto a cushioned swivel seat, looking down at the dark stains that were seeping through the material of his coat. She was bleeding. On his trench. Clenching his jaw he glanced around the room quickly. Not exactly the kind of place he wanted to be stuck in but better than nothing. Turning to look at Faye once more, he spun toward the door as the console suddenly beeped.

The green light lit up red.

Slowly, his frame tingling, Spike reached into his coat and pulled forth his Jericho once more, his fingers itching. Directly outside the office he heard someone's footsteps enter the floor through the emergency exit and he waited silently, wary. The footsteps came in tentatively and then moved off down the corridor quickly.

Spike waited, rigid.

Something tugged at his leisure suit jacket and he instantly whirled, Jericho aimed.

Faye glared up at him tiredly from the swivel seat, her chest rising and falling visibly, her hand falling back to her side. "What are you going to do?" she asked him in a withering tone. "Shoot me? You jackass."

In that moment Spike was uncertain whether to smile or just pull the damn trigger. "Don't fucking do that," he ordered instead in what he hoped was a gruff tone, lowering the weapon to his side.

As he straightened, Faye leaned her head to the opposite side weakly. "Where the hell are we?" she asked softly.

Spike glanced around. "Some office. Sub-levels. Jack's building." And he lowered his eyes to her once more, murmuring almost in a sing-song voice, "Cryolabs…"

Faye's eyes shifted in his direction slightly before shooting back toward the desk in the corner of the room. Wordlessly, she observed the other side of the office, her body stretched wearily, her arms hanging at her sides over the armrests of the chair. Glancing down, aware that there was quite a bit of flesh showing through the coat she quietly pulled the trench shut against her chest, eyes moving toward him once more but not quite making it. And then her eyes caught on the red stains on the trench and she stiffened faintly, hunching to stare.

Spike waited for her, silent.

Wordlessly, Faye pulled open the trench a bit to peek in and frowned at what she saw. But instead of addressing it she merely sighed wearily. "Is…there a way to get out of here?" she asked haltingly, closing the coat once more and sitting up carefully. As she straightened she grimaced slightly, her palm coming to press against her breast. She exhaled loudly, turning her face away as she did so and when she pulled her hand back her palm was lightly soiled red.

"I can get us out of here," Spike stated when she had turned her head to look at him once more.

Hesitating for several moments, Faye composed herself, breathing in deeply and then exhaling purposefully. Then, in one sure motion, she rose to her feet, her hands holding the coat shut tightly. "Then do it. I want to go home," she said to him flatly.

Spike paused thoughtfully as she looked at him. Several things were running through his head at her words. She needed to get those wounds checked. She would probably need a real hospital and a real doctor. He had said he could get them out but he wasn't sure he had meant alive. And she was going to be a liability the way she was.

Her glare brought his thoughts to a grinding halt. "All right, Romani. Let's do this," he said with a swift nod. And he looked toward the password console once more, instantly shifting to survival mode.

"Do you know the pass code?" she asked, coming up behind him gingerly.

Spike stared at the password console, chewing slightly on his bottom lip. "Of course I don't know the pass code," he said to her, still examining the console. He was going to have to open the door just to get out. Which would no doubt set off an alarm now that they were back up.

"Where's Ed?" Faye hissed into his ear.

Spike turned to glare at her. "I left her on the Bebop. The way you wanted me to. Remember?" he snapped at her.

She blinked at him. "We started this _with_ her!" she hurled back at him.

"Yes. And then you got shot and I had to leave you with Jack and I took Ed home-"

"You _left_ me!?"

Spike exhaled irritably, his fingers curling around the Jericho absentmindedly. "Yes, I left you! I fucking left you! Do me a favor and take it out on me later, ok? We have more important things to worry about right now-"

"Wait." Faye's voice softened then, her eyes drifting downward slightly in thought. "You…left me with Jack…and then you came back?" she asked tentatively, quietly. "For me?"

Spike's jaw clenched as they stared at each other in silence for a moment.

Faye searched his eyes, her green irises shifting back and forth between his mismatched ones.

A moment later Spike motioned toward her, lifting his Jericho back toward the door. "You ready?" he demanded. "Because as soon as I open this door we're going to have to run for all we're worth."

Faye didn't reply for a long stretch, still staring at him intently. Then, resolve crossing her face, she clenched her fists at her side. "Yeah. I'm ready. I mean, I'm bleeding, I'm kinda dizzy, I have no gun, no shoes, and no pants. But on the bright side-"

Spike glanced down at the coat she wore then. "Oh, right. Jacket pockets," he said with a wave of the Jericho.

Faye frowned and glanced down, lifting her hands to the pockets of the coat. She reached in, fingers digging in curiously. "What in the-" she uttered, her hands circling around small items. She pulled them out slowly, staring at them in confusion.

"Not those," Spike said with an impatient look. He lowered the Jericho and took hold of the coat itself, motioning for her to put the grenades away. "Inside pockets. Glock," he said. And he reached into his own pocket and produced the gold band for her. "And here. Thank me later."

Faye's eyes lit up upon seeing the remote to her Redtail. She took it from him, dragging it down over her hand immediately and smiling at it once it hung around her slender wrist. Then, holding the coat closed still she reached a hand into the inside pocket and felt around until she had the Glock in her grip. She pulled it out to examine it. "Hey. This is mine."

"I raided your room."

"Nice."

"Ready?" he repeated.

And this time she was. She lowered the Glock to her side, clutching it between both hands and ignoring the slight tingling in her chest that was slowly becoming warm. She nodded curtly when he merely stared at her, his expression still questioning whether she really was ready.

Seeming to work as one, Spike lifted his Jericho and put a single bullet into the control panel. For a moment nothing happened. Then the door slid open, sparks flying from the console and Faye swept past, lifting the Glock. She swung around when she encountered no one in the corridor and there was no one coming at them from the other side either. But the second the door had opened, an alarm had gone up, the lights in the facility switching from a sterile white to a blinking red. The same as the lights flashing when she had taken the bullets before. Faye clenched her jaw, taking a step and Spike came out behind her, scanning the opposite end of the corridor from the one she was searching.

"Which way?" she asked loudly over the alarm.

Spike motioned directly ahead of them to the emergency staircase and she lowered the Glock and ran for it instantly, bare feet padding across the floor. Glancing over his shoulder, he didn't see anyone as he fell into step behind her. As they burst through the door, Faye in the lead, he motioned upward. "Two floors! Exit!"

Faye took several steps in the direction of the staircase and instantly slid to a stop as a door banged above. "Shit-"

Spike backed up a step to turn back toward the third level. And behind him he caught the slightest glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye. "Down!" he ordered Faye and she glanced at him quickly before looking at the staircase leading down. She went for it mindlessly, taking hold of the railing with her free hand and beginning to climb down. Spike was behind her in a second and then sweeping past her as he jumped down the entire set of stairs, sliding along the landing.

"What the hell floor are we on?" Faye demanded and as she reached him on the lowest level she read the words on the wall beside the door. "Sub-level four? _Medlab?"_ she questioned in a yell.

Spike yanked the door open for her, his Jericho aimed upward as he took a stand to hold the door open, searching for pursuers. "I meant to go up!" he shouted wryly as she darted past him and came to a stop just inside.

"I don't know where the hell I'm going!" Faye cried to him and she made a small sound through the blaring alarms as Spike let loose a shot at someone above. "Spike!"

"Got one," he murmured to himself as he saw the body topple on a landing above. He turned to her to find her just inside waiting for him. "Move!" he ordered.

"Which way?" she demanded.

He followed her in, the door slipping closed behind them and he looked from the head of the corridor to the foot. "I have no idea," he admitted after a moment. Then, without another word, he ducked to his right, racing down the hallway. Faye followed a second later, already cursing him as she ran to catch up. "Do you have any idea where we're going?" she asked as they ran, taking a turn in the hallway.

"Nope."

She nodded to herself. "Great."

As they ran they became aware that the password consoles to the rooms and offices bordering the hallway were shifting to green as they passed. From red light to green, even as the alarms blared overheard. Spike stared at each as they raced by, certain that they would hit the other set of emergency staircases and elevators. And the more they ran, the faster they tried to run, the more he realized that Faye was slightly failing, slowing. He raced ahead of her, glancing behind him and he didn't imagine that the bloodstains on his trench had grown. As he turned the last corner he found himself up against one last door with a red lit console.

"Shit," he murmured in disbelief, sliding to a stop a second too late and running right into the door. He slammed his hands against the door, dragging them up over the cold metal, the Jericho scratching against the surface. Faye came to a stop right behind him, hunching over and pressing a hand to her breast again.

"Dead end," she stated warningly, looking up at him, her face paling.

"Yeah, I got that," he growled, looking at the console. Red light. All the others had opened. Why was this one still red?

There was the sound of pounding footsteps coming down the hallway and even as Spike waited for the light to turn green on the console, Jack appeared around the bend, black suit jacket open around his frantic frame. Faye immediately lifted her Glock, her pain momentarily forgotten, and she fired a wide shot warningly.

"Don't you move!" she ordered Jack, Spike quickly spinning around to also level his Jericho at him.

"Shoot all you want," Jack snapped at her and he was digging into his pocket, pulling out a card attached to his slacks with a chain as he came toward them.

Faye resisted shooting him, fear streaking through her as she realized he was nearing. But at her side Spike wasn't opening fire either and a moment later he had pushed between them, swiping the card at the password console and entering a code. Faye glanced at Spike, the lean bounty hunter returning the look of confusion over their drawn weapons. The red light flashed green, Jack stamping his palm on the console and the doors slid apart, opening into a large empty sterile room.

"Get in," he ordered them, his dark eyes darting from Spike to Faye and then down to the stains in the trench. His mouth opened to speak for a moment but then quickly snapped shut, his expression stiffening.

Faye hesitated to move, Spike's fingers clenching around his Jericho in a sign of indecision.

"Now!" Jack shouted. "They're going to be on us in a second and I can keep them out of this room at least long enough to get us out."

Faye glanced at Spike once more as he met her eyes. Then, with a curt nod of his head he motioned her in and she went without another word, slipping past Jack into the room, her Glock lowered. Spike brushed in as well, his weapon still aimed at Jack though he noticed it didn't seem to faze him. As soon as they had entered, Jack hit a button on an inside console positioned beside the doorway. As the door cut them off from the hallway outside, he punched in a code, the light blinking from green to red.

The room was split in half it seemed. Half of it was made up of tightly packed controls and machinery, ending just before a long indentation designed into the floor. And fifty feet past the first indentation in the floor was a second indentation. Faye looked at them in confusion, her eyes flying around the room. Directly on the other side of the room was a second exit, a console lit red there are well. "What is this?" she asked softly, almost inaudibly. And she glared at Jack as he took a step further into the room, looking around.

"Medlab. Experimentation Room. Viewing Room. Whatever you want to call it," he said distractedly. He moved to cross the room and then hesitated, stopping altogether after a moment.

"Get us the hell out of here," Spike growled impatiently, his Jericho still aimed at the man.

Jack was silent for a long while, his frame stiffening the longer he stood.

Faye fingered the handle of her Glock which she held at her side still. "Jack. Dammit, get us out of here-" she warned him, circling in front of the man even as Spike mirrored her on the opposite side, his Jericho aimed at the back of Jack's head.

"They've all been experimented on," he was murmuring quietly, almost thoughtfully. "Not the way I've been but they're all resistant as well. And they're coming-"

"Jack!" Faye shouted at him, taking a step closer.

He instead motioned her on ahead of him, glancing toward Spike behind him.

Turning to move ahead, Faye crossed over the first indentation in the floor cautiously and then crossed to the second indentation, floating to a stop beside a control panel fixed into a slender metal desk that resembled a podium. She examined it, lifting her eyes a moment later to the two men as Jack led Spike across the first indentation. "What are these controls for?" she asked him in a shaky voice, motioning. And she didn't like the look on his face as he lifted his eyes to her.

"For us," he replied in a flat tone.


	39. Change of Heart

**A/N: **Sorry it took so long, this is actually going up in a hurry because I know I've been taking forever. I'm sorry but here you go! Ty for the reviews also! I'm trying to get back to you with responses as well. :)

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****Chapter Thirty Eight – Change of Heart:**

Jack looked at Faye as she hovered by the controls still. "I need to see those wounds, Faye."

"It doesn't matter right now," Spike said over him curtly, cautiously following behind Jack. "We can talk about all of this once we get out of here-"

"I'm not leaving," Jack said then, quietly. Purposefully. And he came to a stop just inside the second indentation in the floor.

Faye stared at him, her Glock at her side lifting the slightest bit.

"Fine. You stay," Spike stated. And he wound around him, his Jericho unwavering in his grip. "But you're getting us the hell out of here. That or I blow our way out."

"Don't destroy the machinery," Jack said instantly to that, glaring at Spike. "I need it."

"I bet. But I don't care. Get us out of here."

Faye drew away from the control panel, her eyes lifting to scan the room and the ceiling. There were small slits, almost like vents along the wall where the indentations ran. She studied them, eyes darting from the slits to the long slots at her feet. There was something eerie about this room. "Frankenstein-weird," she murmured inaudibly, swallowing.

"Don't you want to know?" Jack asked them then, his eyes shifting from Spike to Faye and holding there. "Don't you want to know…any of it?"

"I want to know," Faye snapped, her hands tightening, one into a fist, the other around her Glock. "I want to know a lot of things! Like why me?" she demanded, her green eyes wide. "After all these years. I remember…I remember the shuttle. It's like a dream but I remember…you were on the shuttle with me. Why?"

Jack stared at her, glancing quickly at Spike before turning back toward her. "Don't…don't you remember? Don't you remember any of it?" he asked almost too quietly to be heard. "Everything that happened, everything that I…" He broke off, a frown slowly crossing his face, his eyes narrowing. "My God, you really don't. You don't remember…anything…"

"Then tell me!" Faye cried and she drew closer, her hands pulling Spike's coat tight around her frame as it slipped open slightly. She held the Glock tightly, wanting to shake it at him, to force him to come out with the truth. At long last, just the truth. "Tell me what I can't remember!"

Spike backed away a step, his eyes moving toward Black Jack and then over his shoulder to the doorway at their backs. He didn't want to be here, waiting around for something to happen. He didn't want to be confined to a space like this. His eyes caught on the console behind him at the exit once more and then before him to the indent in the metal floor. The indentations ran the length of the entire floor, even up the walls on either side of him but there was nothing on the ceiling. He had no idea why there were gaps there in the floor but he didn't like their presence and he definitely did not like that console positioned in the middle of the floor like that. "Hey, maybe we can talk about this outside. Not in here."

"I lived…down the hill," Jack whispered quietly to Spike's chagrin, his face almost childish merely by the expression on his face. The expression of a wounded boy. "I was away for college but I lived in Raleigh, Mississippi. I was born there. And I went away but when I came back for break, you were there. And I…you were beautiful. I saw you one day and I couldn't…"

Faye stared at him in confusion, her lips parted.

"I couldn't look away from you," Jack murmured, his voice soft as he gazed at her. She realized that he was willing her to understand, to _remember_, but she couldn't. She just couldn't remember anything where her memory was fractured. As if it had all been erased. "The very first time I saw you, I couldn't look away. But then I saw Charlie. And I knew at that point…"

Faye felt a small shiver run down her spine. As if he was recounting a ghost story. "What?"

"I knew I got there too late," he said and he chuckled, a quiet mirthless laugh. He shrugged faintly and she frowned at him, not understanding. "Charlie…he was a good guy. I couldn't fault him for anything he ever did. And I couldn't fault him for falling for you. I mean, who wouldn't? Who wouldn't fall for you?"

Faye bit back the urge to gesture with a stiff thumb at Spike.

Jack shook his head, the smile on his face strained. But gazing at him, struggling to remember, all she could see in her head was the image of his figure in a window. And it wasn't a genuine memory because in the image she saw herself on Charlie's back, large grins on their faces. From a silly little girl's photo book trimmed with pink frilly lace.

Spike turned to look over his shoulder again, his Jericho stiff in his grip. There was a door directly behind them, several feet back. He didn't know where it led but it had to lead to a place better than where they currently stood. He glanced toward Jack once more, realizing that both he and Faye had completely forgotten his presence. After he had gone and blasted his way into the facility, they had clean forgotten he was even there. Taking a step to the side and then another, he wound toward the console beside Faye and looked down at the switches on the metal face, taking in the small dials. Even the labeled switches made no sense. Audio. Visual. Decontamination. That was a big dial there.

"But he gave you up," Jack was saying to Faye. Spike glanced up quickly at his words, knowing full well how much that sentence was about to anger Faye. He instantly looked back down at the dials, his Jericho lowering at his side.

"I wasn't his to give up!" Faye snapped at Jack and she fisted her hands as she crossed them over her chest, Glock forgotten, holding the long coat closed against her frame. "I'm not some…some piece of _property!"_

"No," Jack shook his head in agreement. "No, you aren't. And Charlie was a fool. But he was a friend. He was a good friend. And he saw something…between us-"

"There was nothing between us!" Faye shrieked at him. "I don't _know_ you! I don't-"

"I took the shuttle. The same shuttle you did," Jack continued, forcing Faye to fall silent. "And when the accident happened, I was frozen. Cryogenically frozen the same way you were. And when they woke me up, years later, I looked for you. I looked all over for you. For _years_ I searched for you."

Spike looked away from the console toward the door at the back of the room. They had to go and they had to get going soon. "Faye," he stated tersely.

She looked at him over her shoulder, her face pinched. And Spike hesitated in continuing, his expression sorrowful. He understood. The mere look in his eyes acknowledged that he understood. "Please," she whispered to him, watching his face. "I need this. I need to know."

He stared at her, his lips parted. He knew she needed it. If it had been him in her place, in exactly her place, he would have needed it just as badly. He wouldn't deny her this. Even if they were running out of time. With a sigh, he lifted the Jericho to Jack once more, motioning for him to move to the left. "Move. Let's go. I need to keep an eye on that other door in case we have guests."

Jack lifted his hands at his sides and slowly slid in the direction prompted, circling around Faye. Faye threw Spike a grateful look, the kind of look she seldom used for anyone.

He chose to ignore it anyway.

"Talk. Tell me all of it. Or most of it. Or whatever you can get out before someone kills us," Faye ordered, turning back to face Jack.

Jack nodded, his tone also beginning to quicken. "I woke up before you, from my cryogenic sleep. And I searched for you. For years. But in searching for you I also returned to my studies. I became involved in research for something called Restorative Practices. Which is basically experimentation, specializing in human biology. Specifically the human body and its regenerative powers. The body itself does a brilliant job of healing from wounds and trauma, but to find a practice that could speed it up, force it to move beyond what we-"

"Oh my God," Faye cried in disbelief, once again pointing her Glock at him. "_Can_ the biology lesson and tell me how we know each other and why the hell you're…" she gestured violently, "_following me around!"_

Jack blinked at her in surprise. "Because…I love you," he uttered, taken aback.

Faye blinked as well, Spike mouthing a whistle as he looked from Jack to Faye and then back to the door at the head of the room.

"So…all this time…that you've been telling me you loved me…you _meant_ it?" she asked him, incredulous.

Jack managed a slight, almost hysterical laugh. "Faye Valentine, I have loved you for the last fifty-some odd years. Longer. Since the very first time I saw you in Raleigh, Mississippi. I've never _stopped_ loving you." He took a step toward her, his hands slowly lifting, and she held herself in place, Glock almost heavy in her grip. Beside her, Spike had also turned his frame tightly, his weapon aiming now at Jack again. "Don't you think it means something? The fact that we knew each other in Mississippi? That I was on that shuttle with you when it went down? That years and years later, even after searching for you, that I would happen to come across your bounty one day on a television show that never even _existed_ in the new millennium? Doesn't that _mean_ anything-"

Faye took a step toward him then, her hands dropping away at her side, her Glock nothing but a vague memory then. "It means that maybe something is supposed to happen. Maybe you're supposed to tell me something about my past or help me remember something. But you can't just…just _kidnap_ me and hunt me down and then expect me to accept you and love you! I don't know you! I can't _remember_ anything about you except that we knew Charlie. That Charlie had stopped loving me because he thought he saw something between us! I don't remember that! I remember the shuttle and I remember waking up and _there was no one there for me when I woke up!_"

Jack stared at her, his expression softening to one of regret at her words. Beside them, Spike turned his head toward her, his face drawn wearily. There was something in the air then, hovering like a dark cloud and Faye realized in that moment that it was sorrow. That Jack grieved his inability to have been there. Because he had woken up the same way and had been thrust into the same place as her but with a memory intact. He had suffered as well, perhaps even more than she had with everything that had happened to him, but he'd still had a piece of his past to fall back on. She had been robbed of even that, the simplest source of consolation.

"Look," she said then, breathing in deeply, shakily. "I…I just don't know you. I don't remember you." She lifted her eyes to him and he was waiting for her to continue, his dark eyes intense. "But if you had just…_come_ to me…instead of such an elaborate ruse-"

"You would have blown me off as some guy trying to get into your pants, Faye Valentine," he said for her and even as she opened her mouth to sputter at him she realized there was humor in his eyes.

Spike agreed with that sentence completely.

After a moment of making several indignant noises, Faye finally snapped, "Fine. Yes! I would've…blown you off. But…you should've…just…" she broke off once more. "Oh, forget it. So, what do you want now then? You've got my attention."

Jack hesitated for a moment. "I want…I _wanted_ to take care of you. I _wanted_ to be there for you like no one was before. I wanted to get to know you and help you get to know yourself again. And maybe, if there was a snowball's chance in hell, I wanted to get a second chance at a date," he replied, sounding the smallest bit hopeful.

Faye paused as well, biting the inside of her lip apprehensively. He always made things sound so good, as if it was all just that easy. "You're a murderer. For one," she burst out stiffly. "I don't…I don't think that I can…" And she gestured at him with a rigid hand, averting her gaze momentarily.

Jack waited for her, his expression straining slightly.

"And I have a bounty on me," she continued, as if listing all her reasons would somehow make all of what was going on stop. Or continue. She wasn't even sure what she wanted then. She wanted to stop bleeding through Spike's coat. She wanted to be sure she was ok at the moment and not bleeding to death standing in some godforsaken metal room. She wanted someone to take care of her. She just wasn't sure she wanted _Jack_ to take care of her, very much aware of Spike's presence so close to her she could almost taste his scent on her tongue. "I have a bounty because…because I owe three hundred million woolongs-"

"Not anymore," Jack said instantly.

Spike arched a brow at that, maintaining his grip on the Jericho.

Faye's expression withered. "No, really. I have a bounty on me because I owe three hundred million woolongs for my cryosleep. Are you going to pay that off for me, hot shot?"

Jack's smile was mischievous then. "I already have."

Faye's lips parted, her thoughts screeching to a sudden stop. "You…you what? I…don't believe you," she whispered faintly, her heart trip-hammering. "I…I don't-"

"If I could prove it to you, at this very moment, I would. But I can't. Not in this room. And I definitely don't want you to be here when they come for me," Jack said.

"When who comes for you?" Spike asked then, a frown on his face. "Who are you running from?"

Jack glanced at him. "Some very angry employees of mine."

"Then why are we just sitting here, waiting for them?" Faye demanded. "Why don't we get the _hell_ out of here so you can prove to me that you wiped my debt?"

Jack looked at her once more. "Because…I'm not leaving here," he replied quietly.

Faye stared at him in confusion. "But…you just said-" she cried, motioning in confusion.

"If we don't get out of here, she's going to bleed to death," Spike cut her off, his narrowed eyes fixed on Jack. He lowered the Jericho slightly, frame stiff in his suit. "And those stains are _not_ coming out of my trench."

Faye growled at him irritably, a hand lifting back to her breast. And sure enough she was quite aware that the front of the trench was soaked. Turning back to Jack, she said, "You told me you wanted to take care of me. And let me tell you, right about now I would just about _run_ into your arms. As soon as we get the hell out of here. So come on. Open the door. Swipe the card. Get us out of here-"

Jack took a step toward her and she broke off, holding herself in place. She had spent so much time running from him, fearing him, that she had to physically fight to keep herself from backing away. And perhaps he saw that in her expression but he didn't let it show. Instead he merely took another step toward her and Spike slowly backed away, maintaining a comfortable distance from him, his Jericho lifting once more.

As Jack took one more step, coming to a stop before Faye, he merely stared at her for a long moment in silence. She returned the gaze, confusion slowly crossing her face.

"They won't stop," he whispered to her.

"Who won't?" Faye gazed at him, feeling her heart straining, almost breaking for some strange reason. Breaking for a strange man she had somehow once known, a man she no longer knew at all. Someone who had hurt and killed people just to get to her. Someone who just wanted her, or just wanted something that he had once loved and needed, something from the past that was within reach once more after having been lost for so long.

He hesitated, as if searching for answers that he didn't even have the strength to look for anymore. "It really was love at first sight," he said to her softly instead, his brown eyes warming a bit.

And as she stared at him she suddenly felt that warmth inside as well, feeling that perhaps she really had known him once. Or had at least seen him in the street and been polite enough to bid him good day. Perhaps that had been enough for him once.

He lifted a hand to her face slowly, allowing her the chance to recoil if she had wanted to but she held herself, her heart beating erratically. His touch was the complete opposite of her pounding pulse as he pressed a palm to her jaw and then slid his fingers down the column of her throat.

Spike hesitated in lowering the Jericho, part of him feeling uncomfortable. As if he had intruded on something that he wasn't a part of but at the same time distrustful of Jack enough to keep his weapon ready.

With a slight exhalation, his eyes shifting down to Faye's neck, Jack said quietly, "The pin is 81494."

Faye gazed at him, her breath seeming thin enough with him quite so close. But at his words she recoiled the slightest bit, his fingers trailing across her skin as she pulled the slightest bit out of reach. "Pin? For what?" she asked. And she frowned. "That's my birth date."

"I know," he said simply. Softly, he took another step to bring him close to her once more and said, "Restorative Practices was a major I took in college. Once I left, I continued to work on what they were working on. And I did it, Faye. It's the reason why I'm alive now, why I look the age I do. It's what I put into your system in the cryo-chambers. For your wounds. I wanted to-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Faye uttered, uncertain whether she was hearing him correctly, confused at the sudden change in subject. "What? What you put into my system? What are you talking about-"

"It's a serum. Usually in liquid form to be introduced to the body intravenously. I found a way to make the serum into a gaseous form as well. I administered it to you while you were unconscious-"

"Stop talking!" Faye cried and she shut her eyes, grimacing. "What the hell are you saying? What did you put in me? What does it do?"

Jack lifted his other hand, reaching to clasp her by the shoulders lightly. "I gave it to you to heal you. If you're given enough of it, it stops the aging process, stops your body from being susceptible to…to anything that can harm you! I've made you…for lack of a better word, invincible." And his eyes dropped to the blood-stained front of the trench, to the soiled material as the stain seemed to widen before his eyes. "Or I tried. It could be I made a mistake when I made it into gaseous form. Some kinks to work out, it would seem-"

"Stop it," Faye whispered, sounding as if she pleaded with him. "Just stop it-"

"But there's an antidote. Or a serum that can counteract the effects. I made that as well-"

"Counteract what?" Faye demanded and even as he was looking to continue speaking she was shaking her head, unwilling to listen. "You can tell me all of this later, outside. When you get us out of here. Just…_get us out of here-"_

A moment later, as he lifted his hands from her shoulders to her face, an explosion sounded from the door. They turned, Spike's Jericho shifting toward the door. There was a dent in the door leading into the room and as they stared the door slid open.

Several uniformed men entered, weapons drawn, faces dark.

And Spike glanced at Faye, the female bounty hunter returning the look. "I told you to hurry," he said with a small defeated sigh.

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	40. Restoration

**A/N:** Ok this chapter is like twice as long as the last one. The last two are also very long so I'm debating making them separate small ones but we'll see. At the moment, here you go, let me know what you think.

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**Chapter Thirty Nine – Restoration:**

Faye immediately lifted her Glock once more, hunching her shoulders. There were several of them that were coming into the room. She instantly counted at least five. And they were all armed, even more so than she and Spike were. Beside her, the lean bounty hunter also had his weapon aimed but she sensed a tremor roll off him. He was uncomfortable with the number of people coming in through the door, the small group that was now standing on one side of the room, separated from them by mere slits in the floor. And he was equally uncomfortable to be standing in the sights of so many weapons.

Jack had spun to face the group and now he lifted his hands at his sides warily. "Ok, easy everyone. We all just need to take it easy-"

"Step back," one of them, a tall stocky man, ordered as he aimed a weapon at Jack.

Jack did as he was told wordlessly.

The last of the men entered the room, the door sliding shut silently behind him as he did so. And then it was the three of them in the room with seven heavily armed men. "Put your weapons down," the first man said gruffly to Faye, eyes darting to Spike as well.

Spike's eyes shifted toward Faye before shooting back to the man. "I'm…going to have to decline, thanks," he said politely though his tone was laced with sarcasm.

All of the men focused on Spike at his words, Jack bowing his head and turning it slightly in Spike's direction.

Faye remained silent, her figure rigid. Perhaps it would be a good idea to lower their weapons. She looked toward Jack but he remained still, silent. Eyes shifting toward Spike's, she met his mismatched ones with narrowed green eyes. And together they lifted their weapons away, pointing them to the side.

"Now," the main mercenary of the group began. "This has nothing to do with the two of you." He motioned to Spike and Faye. "The door in the back leads out of here. Why don't you two go on out that way?" It wasn't exactly a question so much as an order.

Spike glanced at Faye once more, his Jericho in his hand feeling icy suddenly. And Faye knew what he was thinking. They could walk out of the situation with their lives, free and clear. Their problems would be taken care of tonight and there would be no one to chase them anymore. He looked at Faye, the glance becoming a stare, and she was going to do something stupid. He saw it probably before she herself saw it. And it all had to do with Jack and whatever he knew about her that she couldn't remember.

"I don't want to go just yet," she stated clearly, her head lifting almost regally. "He has information I need and I'm not getting out of here until I get it."

The man at the head of the group looked toward her, his head turning as she suddenly became interesting to him. Faye held her head high still although his sudden focus unnerved her. His eyes were too intent, too hard to read. And even as she reached to take her words back he was turning to face her fully.

With a slight nod, his weapon turning in Faye's direction, he simply said, "Ok."

A loud bang sounded, echoing in the utter silence of the room and a moment later Faye found herself toppling to her knees, her breath ripped from her. Overhead she heard Spike's voice ring out in the sudden commotion and her gun was no longer in her hand but all she felt was the cold floor under her bare shins and knees. She looked down blankly, her lips parting, and beneath the hem of the trench, pooling under her pale legs, was a dark red fluid. "Shit…" she uttered in disbelief and she immediately lifted her head, searching as dizziness swirled through her. "Spike-"

It wasn't Spike who kneeled before her though. She could see him from the corner of her eyes and he was standing beside her, his weapon raised once more futilely. She reached a numb hand toward him, hearing his voice as he asked her repeatedly if she was all right but when she turned her head once more blindly she caught sight of Jack before her.

His fingers were pressing to the pulse at her neck, his fingertips warm. Unbearably warm against her suddenly cold skin. She stared at him, almost absentmindedly. She couldn't focus on what he was saying, couldn't hear him but she could hear Spike and she could sense his helplessness rolling off him. "What?" she asked breathlessly, her eyes slipping shut as she forced herself to hear what Jack was saying.

"I said, look at me, let me see your eyes," he was ordering her and one of his arms was wrapped around her waist and holding her up against him. "Pulse is good still. That's good. Means the serum is still working. Do you hear me? Can you understand what I'm saying?"

She honestly couldn't for a moment. She opened her eyes once more, saw him speaking, tried to make sense of what he was saying. But the words ran on slower than his lips moved and it was all beginning to get jumbled. "I hear you," she murmured, blinking rapidly. "I…what happened?"

"You got shot, Faye," Jack was murmuring, staring at her intently. His eyes shifted toward Spike who now had his Jericho lowered at his side in a gesture of surrender. The leaner bounty hunter glanced down at Jack and realized he was staring at him. Jack sent him a look that spoke quite loudly before he turned his attention back to her. Voice falling eerily quiet, Jack whispered, "Can you hear me?"

Faye blinked at him once more. "Yes," she uttered faintly.

"Ok. When I stand up, I'm going to give you a moment to tell Spike what I'm going to tell you. Can you still hear me?" he was asking and his dark gaze was keen.

"Yes," she repeated softly and she grimaced as a sudden pain streaked through her. A moment later the pain drifted away and she was very cold once more.

"I'm going to give you a minute after I stand to tell Spike. I'm going to hit a button on that control console. When you see me do that, tell Spike to turn the dial, it says Decontamination. Turn it completely, one full circle, to maximum. It will click into place when it's at max. Do you understand?" Jack was whispering desperately.

Behind him a voice cut in, a rough tone. And her eyes shifted lazily to see the man who had turned his gun on her. His figure went in and out of focus, her fingers clenching tightly on Jack's shoulder and she hadn't even been aware that she had been clutching him. The voice cut in once more and Jack turned to him sharply, anger flitting across his face. "Give me a moment!" he ordered the mercenary, his tone furious.

Even as the man growled behind him still he turned to face her again. "Did you understand what I just told you?" he asked her faintly.

She merely looked at him, her head feeling heavy on her neck. But she managed a pained nod, her eyes slipping closed again. An instant later he was pulling away, taking his warmth with him and she tried to open her eyes to him, to stop him, but then he was gone and she sat in that cold fluid, a fine trembling beginning to trail through her weak frame.

Two hands took hold of her by the arms, warm fingers, and she managed to open her eyes again with clear effort. Spike was before her now, his figure waving in and out of focus. She murmured his name absentmindedly and he leaned into her, frowning as he struggled to hear.

"Just let them go," Jack was saying behind Spike's crouched form, his voice pleading. "You want me, I'm here, I'm all you need. Let them go."

That rough tone answered him sardonically. "I recall giving them the choice."

"What did he say?" Spike was whispering to her and she snapped back to herself, her own fingers lifting to wrap around his arms as well. Even in her seemingly drunken state she was well aware of the lean muscle through his leisure suit.

"You have nice, strong arms," she uttered, clenching her eyes shut as dizziness swept through her once more. She wanted those strong arms around her because she was uncertain she could continue to sit up by herself.

There was a moment of disbelief from him as he took it completely the wrong way. "It could only be you to say something like that at a time like this," he said and when she opened her eyes he was shaking his head wearily.

She managed the tiniest smile for him. "He said when he hits a button on that console thing over there, to turn a dial that says Decontamination on it. He says for you to do it because-" And she grimaced.

"Because you're not about to, I get it," Spike cut her off and for a moment his eyes slid down toward her waist and knees. Almost immediately they swept back up to her face. "Can you hold on?"

Faye contemplated that, feeling as if everything around her was slow. Like a slow motion reel in a movie. "I don't know," she answered truthfully, the world beginning to spin around them.

"Stay awake," he ordered her. With that he released her to stand back up and turn around to the group in the room.

"Now, I'm going to give you the choice again," the man in charge of the group said, looking at Spike. "I don't need you all. I just need Jack."

Spike looked from Jack's back to the mercenary and he stiffened when Jack took a step, taking his figure over the first slit in the floor. Spike's eyes drifted down, taking that piece of information but uncertain as to what it meant. His eyes shifted toward the men and they were all standing just inside the second slit on their side.

"They're leaving now," Jack was saying and Spike glanced at him, his frame rigid. As Jack turned to look at him he met his eyes quizzically.

But it was there, the warning. The intent on Jack's face. And Spike saw it the moment just before he moved. Spike's gaze darted to the console and Jack was already a blur, his arm swinging behind his frame to slap down a single button on the face of the control panel.

Sheets of glass suddenly shot out of the slits, Jack barely managing to draw his arm in against himself before the walls clamped into place in the ceiling and held. Spike stood, taken off guard, and Jack whirled to face him, placing his hands to the glass that now separated them. On the other side, glass had also blocked off the men from the front exit and they were furious, streaking around and banging on the clear surfaces. The head mercenary spun to face Jack once more and lifted his weapon at him but whatever he said fell on deaf ears. The walls were soundproof.

Jack was motioning to the dial on the console frantically.

Spike bent, scooping up what seemed to be Faye's fallen Glock and he moved to the console, his eyes trailing down. The button. He knew he had to turn that dial. He just had no idea what it would do.

And behind him Faye was suddenly shouting, "No! _No!_ _Wait-"_

Wordlessly but making up his mind, Spike put away the Glock and Jericho and lifted his hand to the dial. He turned it in one swift motion, his eyes darting back toward Jack as he felt the dial click into place and hold. To the side Faye had risen somehow and Spike instantly darted toward her as she threw herself against the glass wall separating them from Jack and the mercenaries. His fingers took hold of her wrists but she had already clapped her hands on the wall and as they slid down the surface they left behind trails of stark red blood.

From the walls, through the vent in the upper edge of the wall, came a steam, soft at first but almost sinister as it began to cloud the room. The mercenaries looked toward it, backing away, and the one in charge turned to the glass, shooting off a round in their direction. Jack barely moved but Spike recoiled, Faye falling back with him instinctively. However, the bullets seemed to ricochet in the tightly sealed area, the mercs automatically flinching away.

Jack slid sideways toward Faye, looking at her through the glass for a silent moment. Then, slowly, he bent into a crouch and she shoved forward out of Spike's grip, blood streaking under her feet as she pushed herself to the glass wall once more.

_"I'm sorry,"_ Jack was mouthing faintly on the other side, seemingly unaware of the mist that was beginning to cloud the enclosed area.

Faye shook her head at him, the world strangely surreal all around her. This wasn't happening, she begged inwardly as she slid back down to her knees. She wasn't bleeding and he wasn't apologizing to her. This was a dream. Some crazy dream that she would wake up from soon even though the floor felt so very cold and real under her. She knew what that steam was because it couldn't be what she _hoped_ it was. She _hoped_ it was the serum in its gaseous form. But she knew it was the antidote. Because Jack wouldn't allow those men in that room to become what he was, as invincible as he was. "Don't do this," she whispered painfully, pressing her hands to the glass wall, aware that she was smearing her blood all over the surface and somehow just not caring. "Jack. Jack-"

Beside her Spike was also leaning against the glass wall, staring at her, his mismatched eyes darting from her to Jack and back again.

Jack's face was firm but resigned. Resigned to the situation he had put himself into, she realized.

Faye turned to look up at Spike, her expression pleading. "Stop this. Turn that button back. The Decontamination one. Just turn it back-"

"I can't," Spike said to her quietly, his eyes caught to hers. He looked away momentarily toward the other men who were now banging on the walls, backing away from the mist that was filling more than half the area now. "It clicked into place. I can't turn it back-"

Weakly, Faye struggled to rise to her feet, reaching for the console but Jack's hand struck the wall noiselessly and she turned at the sudden gesture she had caught from the corner of her eye. He was watching her solemnly and she hesitated, reaching for the console still but frozen halfway. Motioning to her, his hand pressing to the wall once more, he ignored the men around him as they batted at the glass surface, yelling and screaming to each other.

Faye slid back down to the floor, lifting her hands to the glass wall again and Jack smiled wearily at her. _"Go,"_ he mouthed at her and he gestured to the back door of the room.

Spike turned to look at the door, leaning his weight heavily on the glass wall. The lights on the password console were a brilliant green, alerting him to the fact that they could leave if they wanted. That they could go and never have to look back. "Look, Faye, if he's had enough of that serum that he was talking about earlier, he'll be fine in there. It's not like he's going to die. He's giving us an out-"

Faye shook her head, refusing to even look at him, her eyes caught to Jack's on the other side of the glass wall separating them.

Spike tried again. "For all we know, that gas in there is going to make _everyone_ in there like him. Super-powered. Invincible. Whatever he is. Let's get the hell out of here, he'll be _fine_ in there-"

"It's the antidote," she murmured then, gazing mournfully at Jack. And she suddenly had tears in her eyes, tears she couldn't have explained then. Tears for what, she didn't completely know. For a stranger she had never really known? Tears for a murderer, a mad scientist? For _The Surgeon?_ She didn't know Jack McCullough. She never had. But then why was she suddenly crying for him as she stared into his brown eyes?

He pointed to her, from his eyes to her face. And he mouthed grimly, _"I don't want you to see this."_

Staring at him, feeling the hair on the back of her neck lift as terror abruptly streaked down her spine, she gaped at him.

_Oh my God, see what?_

"See what?" Spike demanded and he took hold of her by the shoulder, shaking her. _"See what?"_

Jack motioned to his face with wide-spread fingers.

In the glass area, the mist had finally reached the other men and as Spike turned to glance toward them he stiffened as they began to convulse, the color draining from their faces, their frames becoming rigid.

Faye clapped her hand against the glass wall, horror crossing her face as the men thrashed wildly, as if they had gone completely mad. Almost furiously, those that were within range of the mist dropped their weapons and began to shudder, their fingers cramping into talons. Her breath catching painfully, Faye suddenly didn't know if she was gasping from watching the men or from a sudden loss of air in her lungs. Her mid-section felt cold. Her fingertips were freezing. But she couldn't make herself care. All she could do was stare as the men began to fling themselves against the wall, scratching and clawing at themselves, at _each other,_ like rabid animals. Blindly, Faye turned to look at Jack once more and his face was grim, his jaw clenching as he too watched the men. Motioning violently, she brought his attention back to her. "Please," she cried even though he couldn't hear her. He could damn well read her mouth if he had to. "Please, you have to get out of there. You have to-"

Jack's face was stony.

Frantically, Faye turned to Spike who was still staring at the men in revulsion. "Spike. Spike. You have to…" And she didn't know what he could do but he had to do _something_. She couldn't see this. She didn't _want_ to see this. "Spike-"

The remaining men were inching away from the mist, passing by Jack to crowd along the other side of the area but Jack remained where he kneeled, his eyes on Faye. Lifting his hand to tap noiselessly at the glass wall, he waited for her to look back at him. _"Go,"_ he said again with a slight nod to the door in the back. A nod that said it was ok. That everything was going to be ok.

It was _not_ going to be ok.

Faye shook her head, looking frantically from the gas as it began to curl around Jack to Jack himself as he merely gazed at her. _"Go."_

"What's going to happen?" Spike asked her faintly as if he didn't really want to know.

Faye's eyes remained caught to Jack's face. "He's at least seventy years old, Spike. Closer to eighty. That…antidote…is going to make him…"

Spike looked at Jack once more as the man stared grimly back at Faye. And he suddenly remembered. It was a little boy's face that rose in his mind but it was so clear he might as well have been standing in front of him. A little boy with a harmonica who also hadn't aged until the very end when all his years had caught up to him at once. Was that what it was going to be like now with Jack?

Jack looked up at Spike then as if he knew exactly what Spike was thinking. The expression on Spike's face had probably been a giant tip off. _"Take her,"_ he said to Spike grimly through the glass with a dismissive wave to Faye. And he sat back on his rear wearily, turning his face away as the mist began to cover him.

Faye frowned at him faintly, sliding to sit closer to the glass.

And a moment later Spike's arm wrapped around her waist tightly. A muffled sound broke through her lips and she suddenly shrieked as she realized that Spike was hauling her away from the glass wall. She was suddenly so angry that anything she meant to say came out garbled, an entire mess of jumbled words and furious exclamations. "_Don't…Spike! Let go-"_

He was silent as he hefted her up, her feet kicking off the floor, and as he began to drag her toward the exit he realized she was aiming for him, swinging and missing by the tiniest fractions.

"Spike! Let _go_ of me!"

He didn't bother responding. Wordlessly, he dragged her toward the door, toward the persistent green light and she was heavier than he had anticipated when she threw herself around in his grip. Grimacing, he ducked his head to the side as she swung at him, clipping him neatly in the temple.

He was not going to kill her. He was not going to kill her. He was not going to kill her. Somehow, saying it in his head still didn't entirely change his mind.

Reaching the door, looking over Faye's head as he swung her flailing body to face the password console, he took one last glance toward Jack. And he hesitated upon seeing Jack hidden within the mist. A moment later Jack's hand hit against the glass wall from his side, almost directly where Faye had last placed her soiled palm and he began to convulse through the smoke, falling flat.

Turning away to look at the console he glanced down as he realized Faye was silent in his arms, her body limp. Looking down curiously he saw that her eyes were closed, her breathing rapid nonetheless. And he didn't care. Releasing her with one hand, he curled it into a fist and clapped it against the console, hearing the door whisk open before him. Wrapping his arm around Faye once more he hefted her up and dragged her out through the doorway. Coming to a stop immediately outside the room he hit the console button on the other side, hearing it slide shut behind him with a soft breath, the green light shifting red.

And then there was nothing but silence as he merely stood for a moment, hesitant of releasing Faye. He was used to many things from her, from her violent anger when provoked to her haughty attitudes. This was something completely new, something he was quite unprepared for. Swallowing softly, he gingerly lowered her to her feet, waiting for her to take her own weight once more. When she did he slowly unwrapped his arms from her, facing the back of her head and uncertain of what to do. She was trembling, fine shivers running through her frame, her face pale from the edge that he could see. And there were the smallest sounds coming from her, sounds he could almost describe as painful sobs that were being held back.

Lifting his head, inhaling the slight scent of alcohol and blood, he looked to see where they had been let out. One small corridor with a dead end to their left and a dark set of stairs leading up to his right. All the way at the top of the staircase was a flickering Exit sign and even as he stared at it, the sign went out permanently.

With a small sound Faye fell to her knees.

Quickly, Spike bent toward her, his hand coming down on her shoulder. "Hey. Hey! Not right now! We have to get out of here-"

And this time, as he hesitated, she began to sob in earnest.

He stood, completely taken aback. He had been prepared for Faye to be a pain while trying to get her out. But this was-

Reluctantly, he crouched beside her to look at her and she was crying, great heaving sobs. The kind of crying that came from such a deep place inside that he thought of all those sayings about this kind of crying. That these were the kind of sobs that once one started they would never stop until they were ripped apart. He had never cried like that. Even when Julia had died. He couldn't remember ever feeling that kind of pain. And over someone he had never even known?

He waited for her silently, merely gazing at her. Even as her blood trailed down to the floor between her knees, stark against her pale skin, all he could do was wait for her. He didn't know how long they sat there but in the silence of the corridor the sounds she made felt like the only real thing then. As if the last few hours had never happened, had never existed. His hand on her shoulder, her tears as they fell and then dried and her eyes as they cleared of tears but still remained tinged red. When she turned her head slightly toward him, refusing to meet his eyes for a moment, he waited until she did lift her gaze. But what she found there made her stare at him, eyes widening slightly. Her expression straining faintly, as if threatening to break if he said the wrong thing to her, she shook her head at him. Sniffling, she whispered, "Why are you still here?"

He arched a brow faintly, feeling her bony collarbone under his hand as she shuddered. "Why are _you_ here. Romani?"

Her eyes misted momentarily with more tears. Blinking rapidly, speaking thickly, she uttered, "Because I thought I could figure it out finally." And she bowed her head against her chest.

Spike shook his head at her, wishing then to say so much to her that it was almost painful. And worse, this was probably not the best place to even hold the conversation. "What does it matter, Faye?" he asked her in exasperation, wanting to pound it through her head once and for all. "What is there to figure out?"

She remained wordless in the corridor, silence upon more silence.

"What does it matter, any of it?" he demanded. "Except what you do here and now? What you do from now _on?_ What does any of it matter, what happened in the past? It didn't make you who you are!"

"And who am I?" she cried, snapping her head to glare at him. _"Who am I?!"_

He stared at her. "You're Faye Valentine. Bounty Hunter," he replied. And his face was firm, intent. As if he really did believe it. And as if that was all he really cared about.

She blinked at him, feeing more tears threatening to rise deep inside. But as his face remained solid she shoved the tears aside. Yes. That was who she was. _What_ she was. Faye Valentine. Bounty Hunter. A member of the Bebop crew. That was who she was now.

And that really was all that mattered, she understood at last.

Wiping at her eyes and the edge of her nose, she shook her head. But slowly, she moved to rise, her legs shifting. Spike instantly sprang to his feet, his hand trailing from her shoulder to her arm to help her.

"Oh…shit."

The words were soft, slight from her mouth. And halfway to standing she faltered and went right back to her knees.

"Hey-"

Hesitant, trembling, Faye tried one more time, this time standing with his help. And blood dripped from under the trench to the floor violently, splattering. They both looked down, Faye seeming almost embarrassed if not for the fact that the color had suddenly fled her face. "That's…a lot of blood," she said, feigning a casual tone.

Spike clenched his jaw, already digging through his pockets. Pulling out her Glock he handed it to her, his other hand still curled around her arm in a tight grip. "You ready to go?" he asked her sternly.

She swallowed, taking the Glock as if it was new to her but a moment later she had it gripped tightly. "Yeah. Kinda."

"Kinda?" he demanded. And he shook his head as she opened her mouth to speak once more. "Never mind." With a grimace he lifted her arm, forcing her to wind it around his neck and took hold of her by the waist. Fishing out his Jericho he nodded up at the exit sign. "I'll take point. You cover me since I'll be in front of you. Can you do that?"

Faye nodded, grimacing as he hefted her up at his side.

"Hey, you listening?"

"I got it, I got it," she growled with a wince. And she nodded once more to him. "Let's go. Before I knock out."

With an impatient sigh Spike began to haul her toward the staircase.

Climbing up the stairs seemed to take years. One step after another. And then a landing that branched off to another dark staircase. "What the hell happened to all the strength you had earlier? Even cracked me one upside the head-" he grumbled at her, straining as she made it to the same step he was on.

"Adrenaline rush. I used it all trying to kill you. Sorry about that," she shrugged weakly, as if she didn't really care.

Once they had made it up the numerous landings to the top of the staircase, they came to a stop beside the emergency exit. There was no console here. Only the bar they would need to push down on to get out. Spike glanced at Faye and she looked right back. They would come out onto a floor that was possibly full of Jack's men. "Ready?"

She nodded with difficulty. "No turning back, right?" she asked him quietly, staring at him.

He managed a wry smile for her. "No _point_ turning back," he corrected her. "Why would you want to? All eyes forward from now on, my dear."

She blinked at him, her arm unconsciously tightening around his neck, her fingers digging into his shoulder through the leisure suit. "Yeah," she agreed in a murmur.

And a moment later he bent, pushing his hip into the bar. He flung the door open, curling them both around it so that Faye was pressed flat to the door as it swung, his Jericho coming out first.

No one greeted them with gunfire or violence.

They found themselves outside before another small cement staircase in the cold Mars night. Coming to an abrupt halt, they both hesitated, Spike pointing his Jericho above wildly for anything moving, Faye mirroring him at a lower angle. But they seemed to be hidden in the small stairwell they had come out into, nothing around them, only the dark staircase behind them and the stars overhead. Blinking in confusion, Faye leaned around Spike to look at the small stairwell, her eyes following it to the ground floor that it led to. The stairwell had a railing of what seemed to be stainless steel bordering the stairs and then wrapping around overhead to prevent one from falling into the stairwell.

"Exterior basement exit?" she asked softly, afraid to speak any higher. And the fact that there was no one there allowed her adrenaline to dip back down to normal, bringing pain and iciness back to her. She glanced at Spike as he turned to look back at her quizzically.

Suddenly leaning over the above railing, Ed giggled, face framed by her fiery red hair. "Faye-Faye!" she cried down to them, her amber eyes joyous.

Spike looked up, relief flooding clear through him to such a degree that he wanted to melt into a little puddle. "Ed! What the _hell-"_

Jet also appeared overhead, looking down into the stairwell at them. "Let's go," he ordered them, eyes catching to Faye and studying the soiled trench. Quickly winding around to meet them at the mouth of the stairwell he came down a step and took hold of Faye himself as Spike led her up. Without missing a beat he lifted her into his arms completely and nodded toward Spike. "I left the Swordfish where you had it last. I brought the Hammerhead, left the Bebop hovering in the atmosphere. Where's the Redtail?" he asked and he glanced down at Faye in his arms.

She shook her head wearily, grimacing.

"Is that a gunshot?" he demanded, glancing down at her waist. "And where the hell are your clothes?!"

Even as Faye went to respond curtly Ed was swiping the Redtail's control bracelet clear off Faye's wrist. "Ed can manually fly the Redtail with this!" she cried triumphantly and she raced back around the stairwell to where the Hammerhead was waiting.

"Where did we come out from?" Spike asked, looking around.

"Parking lot directly behind Jack's building," Jet replied and he looked toward Ed as she reached into the Hammerhead and pulled out her laptop, setting it down on the ground. "ISSP and Mars Police are all over this place, taping it off. They got the RepairMan in custody already. Nothing about the Hacker or Jack though-"

Spike wasn't even listening. He was blinking at the back of Ed's head of red hair as she bent over the laptop. "It was her, wasn't it?" he asked in quiet realization, bringing Jet to a slow stop. "All those doors that were opening for us inside, the security consoles, it was her, helping us out."

Jet nodded, looking over as well. "As much as she could. She could tap into some security systems but then said something about the network being weird. 'Course, we owe you for that one, huh?" And he looked back at Spike. "Blowing the building up? That your bright idea?"

Spike smiled impishly, his face brightening in the starlight. "Half of it. The other half was all Jack's fault. But…I thought she needed to be inside to be able to connect with their networks?"

Jet's face was sullen. "We _were_ inside. Got some help from…someone unexpected…" And his face betrayed the slightest bit of bemusement.

"Ed is in!" Ed crowed from the Hammerhead, sitting up straight as a pin for a moment before melting into a wet noodle, fingers itching. Turning to face her, the bounty hunters waited as she searched the screen of her Tomato. "Redtail is in underground parking!" And she tapped at the keyboard furiously, making small _vroom_ and screeching noises.

Spike shook his head. "I'm not going back in for that ship," he said, wiping his hand across his forehead and smudging blood and dirt across his smooth skin. "It's pointless. We'll never-"

Ed motioned for silence, her head thrown back, her arms held out stiffly as if she was conducting an orchestra. Jet and Spike watched her for several heartbeats, waiting for they didn't know what. In the dark of the night, they could now hear the commotion from the front of the building, the sirens, and even catch the flashing lights of the Mars police teams. But beyond that there was nothing except the starry sky and the small sounds of animal life.

Ed gestured with reaching fingers as if trying to reach something just out of reach. Just that little bit out of reach, still attempting nonetheless. Then, as if building to a crescendo, she splayed her hands once more and brought them down elegantly.

And just like that, the side of Jack's building suddenly exploded outward, the blast shoving them a step. Stunned, Spike whirled, Jet glancing over as well and from the gaping hold left behind the Redtail emerged, shooting out into the world and disappearing into the night sky.

Spike turned back around with a wide smile at the net diver as she stood up, the Redtail's remote around her own slender wrist, and lifted her laptop into her arms. "The Redtail is clear! Let's go, Bebop!" she cried and without another glance back she hopped into the Hammerhead to wait for them expectantly.

Spike nodded, looking back toward Jet. "I'm going to go around, get the Swordfish. Faye, looks like you're going with-" And he stopped, staring at her.

Somewhere in the last few moments, even with the blast from which the Redtail had emerged, Faye had lost consciousness at last.

* * *


	41. Yardbird

**A/N:** Very quickly, I gave Faye a last name in this. Just preparing you guys, lol. Hope you like the chapter, it's a bit long.

**

* * *

****Chapter Forty – Yardbird:**

Spike paused outside the borders surrounding the hospital, his brow furrowed. He hadn't wanted to stay there longer than had been necessary. He was too used to seeing people bandaged up, unconscious. Dying. He didn't need to see it again. He didn't ever need to see it again.

_"Sing for me."_

He reached into his pocket, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. Screw this life. Screw all the lives he had been allowed. They were all the same in the end anyway. Nothing ever changed. Nothing ever _would_ change.

A cigarette puff curling from her lips. Green eyes, heavy with weariness. He felt the breeze ruffle his hair gently and the sky was a clear blue. The last time he had died the sky had been blue as well. Why was the sky always blue when bad things happened? All around him, residents and visitors of the hospital mingled on the premises, laughter erupting from a little girl as her father brought her up the walk. Or sniffles as a young woman wept under the afternoon sun. Someone had passed away on her. Or would soon enough. He pulled out a cigarette and not too far off someone cleared his throat brusquely. He lifted his cigarette to his lips, glancing over.

"Don't happen to have an extra one, do you?" an older gentleman in a wheelchair asked him with a small smile.

Spike stared at him for a moment, frowning, cigarette hesitating before his lips. The man rested under a towering tree, lost in the shade, and his smile was gentle. Somehow Spike knew cigarettes were the reason the man was currently in a wheelchair, currently a resident at the hospital. Also a hint was the oxygen tank he carried strapped to the wheelchair, the mask set aside carelessly. Wordlessly, Spike inched forward and offered the man a cigarette.

"Thank you, young man," the elderly man said with a groan as he leaned forward in his wheelchair to accept the cigarette. Spike watched him quietly, several voices rising in his head. Wasn't this just the story of his life? The story of every human out there in this universe? Relishing something, desiring something even when it could be the very thing to kill you? He blinked slowly, keeping his thoughts to himself. One more casualty, perhaps. The man didn't have long for this life.

The old man merely stared at the cigarette in his hand for a long moment. Spike watched him silently. Was he debating smoking the cigarette? Was he thinking of everything smoking had done to him, of the little that smoking had done _for_ him? Life was fleeting. Was the old man questioning his decisions about life now?

The man lifted his head from the cigarette to look at him. And then he snorted, shaking his head and mumbling under his breath. "Kids these days. I can't light this with my hands, you know."

Well, there went that idea. "I'm not a kid," Spike murmured and he glanced down, fishing matches out of his pocket.

The man studied him intently as he dug through his pocket, not moving even when Spike pulled the matches out and offered him the first light. "No, you aren't," he agreed quietly. "You look like you've seen more than I have." And he lifted his head to Spike, staring at him with clear blue eyes. "And I've seen it all."

Spike didn't answer, his face blank.

With a shrug the man leaned forward, cigarette to his mouth and he finally lit his cigarette from the flame Spike held. "Well, my name is Charles," he said, pulling back. "Charlie, if you want," he added, taking a drag and relishing it by the look on his face. A moment later he wheezed a bit, the smoke curling from his mouth.

"Spike," he replied around his own cigarette, lighting it with the same match before putting it out. He flicked the match, also taking a nice deep drag even as Charlie managed to control his coughing.

Sometimes that was the ticket.

"Pleasure to meet you, Spike," the man nodded, swallowing thickly, eyes watering. Spike waited for him courteously as the older man held the lit cigarette up before his face and examined it. "These things are what put me in this chair," he said in a hoarse voice. "But even now I can't seem to say no. Even after everything." He sighed noisily then motioned toward the hospital. "Visiting? Or a resident?"

Spike glanced at the hospital over his shoulder, squinting against the sun. "Visiting," he replied quietly and he turned to look back toward the old man. He wasn't really in the mood to speak to anyone. He wanted to be alone with his smoke. He wanted to _think._

"Let me guess. A girlfriend," Charlie stated knowingly, smiling widely once more, blue eyes crinkling mischievously.

Spike snorted at that, head falling back. "Not even close."

Charlie laughed at his answer, causing him to turn to look at him once more. "Closer than I thought," he said merrily and he lifted the cigarette to his lips again. This time, the drag he took seemed to be just what he needed. When he exhaled the smoke it came from his mouth and nose airily, thick plumes. "You're one of _those."_

Spike frowned, dark eyes trailing the smoke before flying back toward the older man. "Those?"

Charlie nodded. "Those. One of those guys who doesn't want to seem like he feels anything. The kind of guy who doesn't think he can be affected by anything." He laughed again, more to himself. "I used to be one of those. Thought I was untouchable. And well…then this happened." He motioned to his legs and the oxygen tank at his back. And then he turned his attention back, staring at Spike. "Still think not even death can touch you?"

Spike returned the stare, his face darkening. What did one say to something like that? He didn't know the old man. The old man didn't know him. And he was under no obligation to tell the man anything anyway.

And yet, he wanted to tell someone. Anyone. A total stranger would do. Someone he'd never see again. He wanted to tell him that the day he had met Julia, the day he had fallen in love with her, had been the day he had begun to fear death. He had wanted to live then. _Really_ live and it couldn't have been at the worst time or under the worst circumstances. He had been an idiot. A traitor.

He had fallen in love like the best of them. Like the worst of them.

Charlie was still waiting for an answer from him.

"I died not too long ago," Spike replied finally, taking a drag. Perhaps he would keep his stories to himself then. "I'm over it."

The old man laughed at that as if it had been the funniest joke in the world. Spike looked at him quickly, still frowning, eyes slightly widened. He hadn't meant for it to come out as a joke, and most especially not one quite so entertaining. But the more the man laughed the lighter his own face became. Shaking his head, Spike looked forward once more, staring out toward the front of the hospital. "I'm so happy you think my life is humorous."

Charlie's laughter died down, his shoulders still shaking merrily. "Not your life, young man," he said with a point of his cigarette in Spike's direction. "Your _view_ of it. I find it quite funny."

"I see that."

"You died. You're over it. Was that the same attitude you had before?" the old man asked him. "Before you died, that is."

Spike swallowed faintly. "Oh, no," he shrugged nonchalantly. "I was meaner before."

"I bet," Charlie nodded knowingly. And he sighed. "Exactly like me. All those years. Those wasted years."

Spike frowned once more, listening to him mumble. Slowly he looked over, his cigarette raised to his lips but he didn't take a drag. "I doubt you were _exactly_ like me," he grumbled.

"Exactly like you." Charlie nodded beatifically.

Spike stared at him intently. "And you changed?"

"Oh, yes I did, young man. A bit like you but much nicer," he answered.

Spike let it pass. "And what, if I may ask, changed you?" And he looked away once more, not really interested in the answer. He wasn't even sure why he had asked the question in the first place. Was it to avoid returning to the hospital room? Perhaps he wanted to hear someone else speak rather than the sound of heart monitors and the drip of an IV.

Upon escaping from Jack's office building they had immediately made for the hospital. All gunshot wounds had to be reported and they had done so. To Jet's friends in the ISSP. And now he had a lot of favors that he owed but he had merely grumbled about it and accepted it. Once Faye had been admitted it had been touch and go, as they said, for the first few hours. Whatever serum Jack had administered seemed to have worked its way out of her system, having left her weak and worse than they had originally expected. For an hour, after arriving, the blood loss had been significant and he had believed it in the moment.

_"When the guy held the gun to your head in the alley. I saw your face. You wanted it. You wanted it all to be over."_

In that second, when she had slipped away for the slightest instant, the heart monitors blaring almost angrily, he had remembered just how much she had wanted it to be over once. Waiting outside the room as the medical staff had converged on her, he had remembered his words to her and the look on her face, her reaction. And when the heart monitor had returned to a regular rhythm the vision of her face had drifted away from his mind and he had walked away, finding it strange that it had shaken him.

He had yet to tell her that the ISSP and the Mars Police had searched Jack's entire building and had found bodies. Jack's had been among them, shriveled away to nothing but bones wrapped in the leathery shell of old skin. Nothing but a withered old man.

At the moment she seemed to be out of danger though they were continuing to monitor her. Now Spike was left hanging around the hospital, uncertain as to why he couldn't leave to go back to the Bebop yet.

He snapped back to reality. What had they been talking about? Oh right, being exactly like him. The only person he knew who had been exactly like him had died the same day he had. The second time around. There was no one exactly like him in the world anymore, of that he could almost guarantee.

"I fell in love," Charlie had replied somewhere in the background.

Spike sighed, his head falling back. Of course he had. He hated women. Especially women with attitudes. They were always the downfall to a good man. "Happens to the best of us."

Charlie was looking at him. "Maybe," he said quietly, blue eyes losing focus for a moment as he seemed to remember something that only he saw. "But I married my girl. And we were together up until last spring when she passed away." He hesitated as Spike's eyes came open to gaze up at the sky overhead. "You're not with yours anymore. I can tell."

Spike swallowed, eyes shifting across that sky. Blue, blue sky.

_"Bang."_

"You don't know me," he said to him then, faintly. A voice so soft it was almost inaudible. Julia. The blond-haired angel that had been struck down in the end. Blue. "You don't-" he uttered painfully.

"How often have you died, Spike?" Charlie asked in a sympathetic tone.

Spike looked at him, lost for a moment. Julia. Had he given this man his name? He had the split instant vision of his hand lifting up before his face, index finger extended, thumb pulled up, aiming at a blue sky. _Bang. _He couldn't remember for some reason. He couldn't even focus then, not well enough to even remember giving the guy a cigarette. All he remembered then was a blue sky and Vicious dying. Julia dying. Was Faye soon to follow? After all, what had Black Jack been in the end except Faye's Julia? The one that had gotten away, ironically enough. Except she had never really understood it until he had been gone. The coppery scent of blood staining his clothes. He had smelled it on Faye when she had been struck down in that sterile room. Choking him, that scent. As if he had swallowed the blood. "What?" he asked thickly, frowning.

"I died twice," Charlie went on as if nothing was wrong. Spike stared at him dumbly as he continued. "The first time I met Kathryn, I died. I died and came back a new man. That man that I was, before Kathryn…that wasn't me. Not the real me. She fell in love with the real me. And when she passed on, I died again. To cleanse myself of all the anger I felt when she left me." Charlie nodded to himself. "Now I'm just me."

Spike turned his head away, desperately fighting the urge to pull out his Jericho and shoot to his heart's content. He had been angry after Julia's death as well. Angry and wounded. And he still hurt. But it was better now. He'd just managed to make it miserable for everyone else. With a small inward sigh he took a nice long drag of his cigarette.

"You're not there, Spike," Charlie murmured. And he looked down at the cigarette in his wizened hand, seeming to examine it. "You're not there. But you're on your way."

He understood. Or he thought he did. But everything he thought for the last few months, for the last few _years_ had been wrong. Or maybe not wrong. Just skewed. "On my way where?" he asked, staring blindly, his vision as distorted as his thoughts.

"To being the real you," Charlie answered and he nodded. "I can see it in your eyes."

Even as he said the sentence Spike turned his mismatched eyes on the old man, merely staring at him. Charlie stared him dead in those eyes, not batting an eyelash as he seemed to realize Spike had two different colored irises.

"Yeah. Your eyes," Charlie whispered, studying him intently, seeing straight through him. "They say a lot about you, young man. A person's eyes always tell a story."

Spike gazed at him even as Julia's eyes appeared before him, floating dreamily.

_"Life is a dream, after all…"_

And Faye's large green eyes, staring into his when he had drawn close to her. Her voice, angry and raw when she had been screaming at him in the Bebop, just as he had been on his way out. Shooting round after round into the air as he had walked away.

_"Don't tell me these things! You never told me before! Don't tell me now!"_

"It's time to be reborn, my boy," Charlie was saying in the background. "You've hidden yourself enough."

Spike stared at him blindly, clutching his cigarette hard enough to crush it. He didn't understand what was going on. Almost as if he had been drugged, the entire afternoon suddenly seemed surreal with visions of a dying Julia and a bedridden, flatlining Faye. "I _was_ reborn. Not too long ago-"

"That's not true and you know it," Charlie cut him off, head cocking curtly. "You're still hanging on to that piece of yourself. Your past. You're going to let it keep biting you in the ass-"

"All right, that's enough," Spike tossed his barely smoked cigarette, stamping it out a moment later under his boot. Jaw clenching, he glared at the elderly man, his eyes cold. "Nice to meet you, Charlie. See you around." And he shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to walk back toward the hospital. That had been quite enough. One couldn't even get a decent smoke anymore without someone pretending to know everything about him.

"Hold on, Spike."

He sighed inwardly, slowing nonetheless. He owed the man nothing. He could walk away. If he had walked away from things before, he could sure as hell do it now.

"Sit with me for a bit," Charlie invited from behind him. "I'm an old man and I have nowhere to go anymore. Sit and I promise I won't mention anything on the subject of dying. Unless we're talking about me. And if I keel over on you in the middle of our chat I sure do apologize."

Spike groaned silently, hesitantly. But he didn't _want_ to.

"Humor an old man. Let's talk about your friend in the hospital."

Tuning slowly, teeth gritting, Spike glanced at him. "Yeah. I really should be getting back to her anyway," he said, motioning absentmindedly. "She gets these mood swings, attitudes, if I'm not around. Likes to piss people off if I'm not there to-"

"Well, aren't we the cocky bastard," Charlie said but he was smiling once more, his deep blue eyes the color of the sky above. Those eyes unnerved him when he looked into them. Much too brilliant, almost powerful. "She's a sweet young thing, isn't she?"

Spike paused, slowly coming back toward the old man against his will. "Actually, she's a giant pain in the ass," he admitted. "And she's about your age."

Charlie's eyebrows shot up. "Is she now?" he asked almost mischievously "And she goes after younger men? Maybe I can steal her away."

Spike had a sudden image of Faye on Charlie's lap, giggling coyly, the old man's hand on her thigh and he swallowed the bile that flooded his throat. "I don't think you're her type," he said to the old man with a grimace. And he paused, glancing toward the tree trunk that shaded them. A small brick wall bordered the trunk, having fallen and crumbled with age. He sighed wearily, plopping down on the remaining bricks beside the old man and it was nice in the shade. Cool. He wasn't sure that he wanted to stay and talk with the old man but he didn't need to see the icy death that hovered in the hospital corridors. Like haunting ghosts, that cold feeling on his neck.

"Are _you_ her type?" Charlie asked him curiously, cigarette winding down in his fingers.

"Yup," Spike replied absentmindedly, eyes hooded. And he came to a thoughtful stop as he returned his attention to the question and to the old man. "Or I think I am. Who knows? Maybe I'm not. I don't make it a habit of talking to her."

Charlie's expression was one of humor. "And yet you'd come to visit her in the hospital."

Spike glanced at him briefly, shrugging faintly. "We're friends," he said almost lamely.

Charlie leaned back in his wheelchair, staring at Spike, plumes of gentle smoke wafting from the cigarette. _"I_ can see that. Do _you_ really see that?"

Spike frowned at that. "That we're friends?" he questioned. And at Charlie's nod, he replied "Sure, I see it. We just don't get along very well. We work together better than we live together."

Charlie smiled once more, a definitive impish twist to his lips. "Ah. That kind of relationship, then."

Spike arched a brow in confusion. And then, in understanding, he sputtered, "What? No! I didn't say that! I mean, yeah, we live together but I also live with another guy. And a kid! And a _dog_!" He recoiled, distaste crossing his face slowly.

The older man seemed to be enjoying his awkwardness a bit too much, finally finishing his cigarette and tossing it. But then, his tone softening, he asked, "What do you do, Spike?"

Spike blinked, still a bit off guard and cautious. But upon realizing that the man was asking only in curiosity he looked ahead once more, scanning the front of the hospital. A small smile faintly lifted the corners of his mouth as he contemplated his answer. What _did_ he do? He was a pain in the ass and he took up space. But he wasn't going to mention all that. "I'm a space cowboy," he murmured, settling on an answer.

Charlie burst out laughing, clapping his hands together humorously. "A bounty hunter! Well I'll be…" And he lifted his head to the sky. "We didn't have bounty hunters in my day, when I was a kid. Or we did but we didn't rely on them too much. We had anonymous tips and the cops did their jobs."

Spike looked at him.

_You remind me of Jet._

"Those days, on Earth," Charlie sighed quietly, and his eyes saddened a bit. "Those are the days I treasure the most."

Spike motioned to him absentmindedly. "Earth. That's where she was born," he added in. "My friend, I mean."

The man looked surprised. "Is that right?" he asked with the beginnings of a grin. And then as an afterthought, he murmured, "Well sure, she would have been born on Earth. Especially if she's my age. Hell, maybe I even know her. What's her name?"

"Faye."

Charlie smiled faintly, his eyes losing focus for a long moment. "Faye," he sighed almost wistfully. "Yeah. I knew a Faye. Prettiest girl at the prom." A longing look came into his eyes as he gazed outward blindly. "Beautiful Faye Anami. I don't know what ever happened to her."

Spike nodded that he understood. He didn't know what had become of anyone from his past either. And sometimes it was for the best. Other times the loss was almost too much to have to live with.

"Does she tell you about Earth?" Charlie asked, snapping him out of his reverie. "Before the Gateway incident?"

Spike paused thoughtfully. "No, not really. She doesn't talk about her past. For a while she didn't even remember it," he replied.

"Old age will do that to a person," Charlie nodded wisely.

_So will cryogenic freezing._

"I miss being on Earth," Charlie murmured and he looked around as if searching for a difference between the Earth of his memories and Mars. "Before the risk of being killed by a piece of moon rock. Things were much simpler then. And the moon was beautiful. As bright as beautiful Faye."

"Beautiful Faye," Spike echoed with a slight shake of his head. Faye would jump on that one. He would have to quickly erase it from his memory.

"This Faye of yours-" Charlie began slowly, a small frown crossing his face as he turned to Spike once more curiously.

"Tell me about Earth," Spike cut him off quickly. He wasn't in the mood to talk about Faye. He wasn't in the mood to think about her. He thought of Faye these days and he got white hospital walls and beeping monitors. The flat-lining heart monitor with its insistent shriek. The sooner he got Charlie off the topic, the better.

"Earth?" Charlie sounded surprised. "Sure. What do you want to know?"

"Whatever," Spike mumbled with another inward sigh. If he stared hard toward the sun he was sure he could see the blasted thing crawling in the sky. For the smallest moment before it burned his retinas.

"Ok, then. I was born in Mississippi, 1994," Charlie said and the story sounded like it was going to be long and boring. Spike slumped wearily, looking about in lost confusion. How had he gotten himself involved in this?

"We had our share of wars, conflicts. Terrorism, even. It was a bad time to be alive," Charlie said and Spike bit back a retort. "But all the simple things made it good. Breathable air. A full, bright moon. An old song. It's one thing I'll never get over. The old blues. Bluesy-jazz. The craze in my youth was that rap music. Or that…_grunge_ noise. In Raleigh, especially. But I loved that old blues sound. Jazz. Folk, even. Louie Armstrong. Joe Oliver. Yeah, Joe Oliver. _'Now you'll get a chance to see Papa Joe's red underwear.'_ Joe Oliver…"

Spike stared at him, thoughtful as the man's voice drifted.

"My Funny Valentine. Great, great song, that one," Charlie continued.

_My Funny Valentine._

"Johnny Mercer. Strange little music he had. And Charlie Parker…"

Spike glanced up at that last one.

"I was named after him, Charlie Parker." Charlie rambled. "He was a great." His voice was soft as he spoke, his gaze lost. "I danced with my Kathryn to those old tunes. I didn't meet her until well into my thirties. She wasn't that much younger but we shared an interest in that old blues music. I met her on Mars. She had been born on Earth as well and it was pure coincidence that I would meet her on Mars. But when we met and when we danced, we lit the room up." He paused, his voice distant. "My Kathryn."

Spike listened quietly.

"Is your Faye into blues and jazz?" Charlie asked him. "Mine was."

Spike paused. Was she? He didn't know. She didn't like heavy metal, he knew that much. He couldn't remember the song she had been humming…no. That was a lie. He remembered it. He remembered it only too well. And he had hated her for it and strangely enough, appreciated her for it at the same time. He just didn't want to be reminded of it.

"I don't know what kind of music she likes," he said quietly, only realizing then. He didn't know anything about Faye. Because she didn't speak of it? No. Because he chose not to listen. He leaned forward slowly, frowning. What _did_ he know about Faye? Born on Earth. What year? He didn't know. Where had she lived on Earth? Besides Singapore and Raleigh, Mississippi-

He looked at Charlie quickly, feeling something fall into place then almost abruptly.

_"This is my song." _Her voice, ghostly, whispering so close that it almost seemed she stood beside him, her lips to his ear.

"My Funny Valentine," Spike uttered numbly and Charlie glanced at him.

"Sorry?"

Spike stared blankly, his lips parted. "My Funny Valentine," he answered, feeling more things click into place. Maybe he really was a lunkhead sometimes, the thought bringing the briefest quirk to his lips. "She loves that song. It's her song," he explained to Charlie, staring at him fully, searching his face.

The old man smiled at him gently. "That song. My Faye loved it. She had a dresser and we carved our names into it along with My Funny Valentine," the old man nodded. "I remember that day as if it were yesterday."

Spike stared at him silently, his breath feeling as if it had gently been ripped from him. This was what epiphanies felt like, he realized then. Charlie was quiet beside him as he lifted his head to the blue sky, nostalgia crossing his face for the smallest breath. And if he just stared at him, just examined the old man's face and looked underneath it, under all the lines and weathered skin, he could see a face he recognized from a photo in a girl's frilly pink photo album.

Softly, he said, "Tell me about your Faye."

The older man blinked. "My Faye?" Charlie echoed. And then with a small sigh he said, "Well…that's the one that got away," he murmured, his blue eyes sharpening and resting on something far off. A point in the past maybe. "My Faye, she had the biggest, most innocent green eyes. Beautiful, beautiful green eyes. You could fall into her eyes, they were so big. And she was mixed, part Asian. The Asian continent on Earth, I mean. Well. It's before your time. Beautiful, beautiful Faye."

Spike nodded for him to continue. Faye on his back, laughing the way only a carefree kid could. Charlie with his golden good looks and mischievous grin. And Jack, the dark shadow in the back, lost in a window and in time. Forgotten.

Charlie hesitated for a long moment, tossing aside the cigarette now that it had burned down to the filter. "She could've been the one. I loved her. Loved her and needed her the way…" He broke off, blinking up at the blue sky almost questioningly. "Well. I didn't need her the way _he_ did."

Spike stared at him curiously.

Charlie pursed his lips, bowing his head then. "It doesn't matter. That was all a long time ago. We had barely started before we were over."

"Couldn't make it work out?" Spike asked him, wanting to push. Needing to know suddenly more than Faye ever had. Wanting to know how one Jack Mitchell McCullough had become Black Jack. What had started it all. Because he knew what had ended it.

Somewhere, now lost in a past that no one would remember except this man beside him, a teenage Faye was throwing herself onto Charlie's back, gripping him for dear life. And Charlie was lifting her higher up, securing her to him, never knowing what would become of them all. Who ever knew what the future held? Who could have known that Charlie would grow up, grow old and live out his last on a different planet? Who would ever have known that Faye Valentine had once been a young woman, clutching to a brilliant life that would end before she was even done with her teen years? And who would know now that Jack McCullough hadn't died on that shuttle when he had followed after Faye to profess his love for her? Who would ever know anything of those three people and their ill-fated triangle?

The older man looked at him, still pondering his question. "Could we have?" he was mumbling. "I think we might have. If things had been different. I knew…when we ended…that there was someone else for her. I knew. She didn't. But I had a friend back in the day…such a long time ago, on Earth. And he loved her the way I never could. The kind of love that…would rip you apart if you couldn't do anything about it. The way I felt for my Kathryn." Charlie nodded slowly, seeing through Spike. "Faye…she just didn't know."

Spike sat wordless for a moment. "A friend?" he echoed.

Charlie nodded once more. "But it was a long time ago. And then Faye was in the accident. And he had been on the shuttle as well, my friend had. And they both-" He broke off then, falling silent.

Spike stared at him, his lips parting slightly. Should he tell him that both of his friends had survived the shuttle? That the last few months had revolved around what had come of that accident? That it had all stemmed from the feelings two friends had felt for one girl? For Faye Valentine of all people?

For a long moment Charlie was silent. His blue eyes stared out over the hospital lot, his mouth twitching slightly. Then, as if waking from a nightmare, the man jumped and turned his head back toward the bounty hunter, eyes wide. "Listen to me! Going on about death after promising I wouldn't! I'm a fool of an old man." And just like that the smile was back on his face, his blue eyes sparkling once more. "Another story for another time!"

Spike blinked at him, taken slightly aback.

"I think…" Charlie began, and he lifted his hands to the wheels of his chair, sending Spike a wink, "it's time for me to get back inside. Just a bit of air, the doctor said. Nothing about a cigarette. If he catches a whiff of it on me he'll have my ass. But then…" He grinned at the bounty hunter, his voice softening, "I ain't afraid to die."

Spike stood quickly, awkwardly. "Right. Of course. Do you…do you need help getting back?" he asked, motioning faintly back toward the hospital.

Charlie shook his head. "I may be getting on in years, young man, but I still got some fight left in these old bones yet."

Spike nodded, silent.

"It was very good to meet you, Spike," the man said and he nodded toward the hospital. "Come see me sometime, if your friend is still stuck here. Room number is 413. And you give her my very best. We seniors have a hard time of it these days."

Spike nodded once more, hands lifting to shove into his pockets.

"Oh and one more thing," Charlie said, his hands hesitating on the rims of the wheelchair. "Your friend. Faye. Bring her some flowers. Because you might not think so, but she does mean that much."

Spike nodded, not certain that he actually would do that. "Hey, Charlie-" he called, bringing the man to a stop yet again. "My friend, Faye…she can use all the company she can get. Room 607. If you don't mind taking some time out to visit a…stranger."

Charlie paused, pouting slightly. "Hmm. Maybe I will. Maybe she'll have some good Earth stories to tell. After all, there's very few of us left who remember." And with that he sent Spike one last smile before wheeling himself back toward the main entrance to the hospital.

Spike watched him go, his breath sticking to his lungs strangely.

* * *

It rained that night. The blue sky disappeared, vanishing into grayness before settling into a deep night. And as the rain had come down he had felt it, clothed in a new trench. That eerie feeling of déjà vu. How strange to lean against a wall, smoking a cigarette, and think of another time that he had been caught in the rain in the exact way. There were no roses this time. Only a cigarette and a rainy day. And carnations. He had stolen them from a street vendor. He didn't feel bad about it either. And this time he was leaning against a hospital wall.

Ed had arrived with Ein mid-afternoon, the entire hospital exploding with distaste and disbelief that someone would think to bring an animal into a sterile environment. If only they knew that Ein was twice as intelligent as the entire staff of doctors. Spike had been saddled with the corgi while Ed had stayed with Faye. She had been asleep, the hacker had told him. She had sat in silence with her Tomato, watching over the older bounty hunter, and the room had been quiet the entire time except for the occasional beeps of the heart monitors. And the hacker hadn't enjoyed those.

"Only for a little while longer," Spike murmured. Tonight, standing under a window in the rain, it wasn't so bad. There was no one waiting for him and he wasn't waiting for anyone either.

Jet had been out all day. When Ed had returned to the Bebop with Ein he had gone out and disappeared. Spike had no idea where he had gone but it wasn't like he needed him to check in anyway. They were all grownups. Spike had decided he would visit with Faye for a bit in the evening and drop off the flowers to her after having made himself scarce all day. He didn't need to stick around, especially as Faye had been either unconscious or asleep the entire day.

He lowered his eyes to the carnations in his hand. He didn't want the flowers to signify anything. Because they didn't. They signified nothing. And he knew if he gave her the flowers she would run with it once she got over her initial surprise.

But sometimes, people just deserved flowers.

Finishing his cigarette, he flicked the butt, tossing it into a small puddle. And feeling the familiar sensation inside, he turned and headed into the rain once more. This time, now, he had a place he needed to be. Even if only for a moment.

* * *

He paused in the middle of the hallway as he came within distance of Faye's room. Jet was visible inside the room, his head bowed, his tone low. He didn't appear to be happy but Jet was never happy these days. And at least he knew now where the older bounty hunter had been most of the day. He slowed, drawing closer a step, his trench loose around him. And yet somehow, feeling the strain in the air, he suddenly felt constricted in the long coat, his figure stiffening slightly. Pausing just to the side of the doorway he caught sight of three gentlemen in the room with Jet and Faye. Two of them were in some sort of uniform and the third, an older man wore a business suit, all with their backs to Spike and standing opposite Jet who was at Faye's bedside.

"You're being stupid, Faye," the older bounty hunter was growling toward the figure in the bed. "You always do stupid things when you get like this-"

Faye responded quietly, much too quietly to even seem like it was her. All he could see of her from his angle were her legs, still under a thin blanket. They shifted a bit, the blanket dragging.

"Forget the money!" Jet shouted at her, her legs immediately halting in Spike's line of sight. Then quickly, in correction as Jet glanced at the men in the room he added, "Well, don't _forget_ the money but quit worrying about-"

Faye said something else, a quiet murmur. Spike took another step, straining to hear.

Jet hesitated for a long moment, his eyes sliding shut, his frame weak. "Don't do it, Faye," he murmured almost inaudibly. "Not unless you think-"

She cut him off quietly, her tone subdued. Sad.

"-it's right," Jet finished. And he hunched over, placing his hands on the side of the bed and pausing. The legs did not move again and the tension in the air was palpable, sparks seeming to fly between the people on either side of the bed. "He'll hate you for this. You know that, don't you?"

Faye laughed wryly and spoke once more, mumbling.

Jet sighed. "He doesn't hate you, Faye," he rumbled gruffly, shaking his head at her in the bed.

Spike came just close enough to hear her groan dramatically. Ever the drama queen. "But he doesn't care about me either, does he," she stated and she hadn't been expecting an answer to her remark. It was just what it was.

Jet stared at her, his mouth open to speak. But there was nothing to say to that. He closed his mouth with a snap, head falling wearily for a long moment. The legs on the bed had not shifted in the last few moments he had been present and if not for her voice he would have believed her to have fallen back to sleep. Jet lifted his head once more, his eyes shifting toward the doorway. And catching sight of Spike there he straightened immediately, surprise crossing his face. "Spike..."

Spike frowned at him suspiciously from the hallway, eyes darting to the three men in the room as they all turned to look toward him.

Jet's eyes dropped to Spike's hand. "With flowers," he added on, blinking in disbelief.

The figure in the bed moved and he heard the sound of surprise, recognizing Faye's tone in it. _"Wha?"_

The older gentleman in the room turned back toward Faye and bent, reaching to the bed. "Ms. Valentine, you have my card. We'll be in touch with those…items you requested. Should you need anything, do not hesitate to contact me." And turning to the other two men accompanying him, he jerked his head toward the doorway. Spike stepped aside as one man, his manner that of a bodyguard, led the businessman out, followed closely by the third who also seemed to be a bodyguard. Spike waited as they passed by and then watched them stride down the hallway and into the elevator as it opened for them.

Jet was staring at the flowers in Spike's hand still when he turned back to face the room. Then, as if aware he had been caught looking he glanced quickly toward Faye. "Well, I'll be getting out of here for a few. Need to smoke me a cigarette." He patted the bed as he wound around the foot of it and then breezed by Spike, the corner of his lips quirking.

Spike blinked after him in bemusement, drawing closer to the room and finally pausing in the doorway.

Faye was already attempting to sit up when she caught sight of him and he couldn't help the slight grimace that crossed his face. She was hooked up to a heart monitor beside her bed, an IV dripping on her other side, the tube disappearing under the blanket where her arm was hidden. She had ripped the oxygen mask from her face and now clutched it with claws for fingers. Numerous wires snaked under and out from beneath the sheet covering her and she looked haggard. "Oh my God," she uttered hoarsely, her pale face blanching further as her eyes dropped to the flowers in his hand. "You really brought me flowers."

He dragged his eyes away from her and looked down at his hand. Sure enough he was still clutching the carnations in his hand and he didn't remember at the moment how he had even gotten them. "Yeah," he said dumbly and he looked at her once more slowly, not wanting to see.

She lifted her eyes back to meet his, noting his uncomfortable stiffness in the room. Her mouth twisting faintly, she set the oxygen mask down beside her pillow. "Yeah," she echoed him awkwardly. Quickly, she shook her head though the gesture was not as haughty as he was used to from her. "You don't have to stay Spike. I'm not the prettiest sight, I know."

He shrugged at her, bringing her to silence. And as he entered the room she lowered herself back to the bed wearily, watching him with a strange expression. "I don't really have anywhere to be," he replied. And as she tilted her head, her eyes widening slightly, he added, "Plus, there's no food on the Bebop. No one's done any kind of shopping but I know you have food here so I figured, what the hell, it's not like you've been eating it." He arched a brow at a tray of cold food beside her bed.

As her eyebrow twitched at him he pulled up a chair and plopped down into it. She stared at him, eyes closing, mouth opening, no doubt to insult him. But after a silent moment she merely swallowed whatever she was going to say. With a small sigh she flattened back down to her bed, squirming to make herself comfortable.

His lips quirking slightly, Spike leaned forward and dropped the flowers onto the blanket covering her.

Faye froze, her eyes darting down to stare at the carnations for a second in utter silence. Then, slowly, she lifted a hand and reached toward them with a finger, dragging the IV under the blanket. Spike watched her silently as she extended a finger and ran a tip along the edge of one of the flowers, her lips parting. "They're beautiful," she murmured. And a moment later, without missing a beat but revealing that it had been on her mind since he had come to the door of her room, she whispered "I don't want you here."

Spike's face settled into a blank expression as his glance turned into a stare.

Faye didn't pull her eyes from the flowers, her fingers trailing across the soft petals. But she was very aware of his eyes on her, as if he tried to burn a hole into her forehead. "I don't want you here," she repeated. "And I don't want your flowers, Spike." She paused the moment the sentence was out of her mouth. "Actually…leave the flowers."

Spike's eyes grew heavy at the last remark. "You would think a life or death situation would change a person," he stressed to her knowingly.

She sighed at his words wearily. "It usually does," she whispered, gazing at him. And as he returned her gaze she paused, observing him intently. He allowed her to examine him, maintaining an open expression. She tightened her lips into a straight line, seeming to weigh something inwardly. And then she cleared her throat as she came to a decision, feigning nonchalance and stating, "You owe me the answer to a question."

Spike lapsed into a long silence, his jaw clenching as if he had known it would come up eventually. He should never have made that bet with her. But she had caught him off guard with that punch. It was _unfair._ But the truth was he wasn't sure he was ready to answer any questions at the moment. The last few days, the last few _weeks,_ had taken enough out of him to leave him uncertain that he would answer only what he wanted to answer and not what she needed to hear. But he leaned forward slowly to hover closer to her bed and he nodded, attempting to stifle the cold feeling in his chest. "Shoot."

Her green eyes shifted from one brown eye to its mismatched twin, her breathing quickening slightly. "Ok. If I ask you this, Spike, you have to be honest. Like really honest and not your version of honest where you kinda shrug, flirt shamelessly but still don't answer anything in the end-"

"I got it. Shoot."

"No, really, Spike. You have to be-"

"Geez, Faye," he grumbled to her irritably. "Just ask the fucking question."

She hesitated as he stared at her, a slight frown on his face. And her eyes flickered toward the flowers once more, her hand passing over them gently. He waited for her, his silence overwhelming. Slowly, not knowing how to ask the question, she began, "Do you think…"

He hitched a brow at her.

She glanced at him once more, a quick look. This was going to be more embarrassing and more awkward than she had anticipated. As she realized he was waiting for her she said, "Do you think you could…_ever_…" And she didn't finish the sentence because he had caught on. Just from her tone and from her reluctance, he had gotten to the point of her question. The expression on his face was one of understanding. She broke off, her lips parted, her pale face almost anxious.

He didn't answer her for a long moment, his hand lifting to settle on her hip unconsciously as he also let his fingers play with the carnation petals haltingly. Her hand drew away from his as she waited, as her eyes narrowed, trying to read the expression on his face.

Quietly, his eyes caught to the flowers because he wasn't about to look directly at her, he said, "Maybe…one day. But not now. There's too much…and not now."

She gazed at him, at his averted eyes. Neither one matching the other. One as different from the other. And she turned her face toward the window of her room, not wanting to look at those mismatched eyes anymore, aware of the presence of tears in her own. She didn't want him to see them. Painfully, she swallowed, closing her eyes from the night sky and wanting nothing more then than to be left alone. Faintly, she whispered, "You can go now, Spike."

She felt his eyes on her again suddenly but she didn't care. She was happy her eyes were closed and her face was turned away. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to smell him either. "We'll talk about this-" he said quietly from her other side, his voice falling away.

_Never._

"When you're better. When you get back to the Bebop."

She didn't reply, her hand dropping back to her side, falling onto the bed.

With a small sigh he said, "I'll see you later, Romani." And she heard him leave, his soft footfalls, and the door closing behind him.

After a long moment she turned her head back but he really was gone.

_Maybe just isn't enough anymore._

With a tremulous breath she closed her eyes once more. "So long, cowboy."

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	42. Visiting Hours

**A/N:** Ok folks I am no practicing medical professional nor do I know the jargon so if you're reading this and keep thinking, "That's BS, that wouldn't happen..." then good for you! But that's how it's going for this chapter. Thanks for the reviews, I love them! I didn't get a chance to respond this time around since I'm trying to get this sent out before I leave work for the night. Thanks a lot still! And this is the last chapter before the epilogue so it's very short but important. Enjoy!

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**Chapter Forty-One - Visiting Hours:**

Charles Parkerson had taken a turn for the worst overnight. Spike observed him the next evening, hovering just outside his door. His lungs were giving out finally. Spike wasn't surprised. Fifty years of smoking did that to you. Faye also had given them a scare the night before after he had left. The doctors had filled both him and Jet in that morning but he had blanked out on the entire conversation, allowing Jet to handle it. Something about not surviving another scare like the one she'd had during the night. And about her body weakening. He had gone out in the middle of the explanation, needing a bounty to occupy his time. Ed had found him one after he had avoided her questions about Faye's health and he had brought the bounty in immediately. It had been almost easy. And maybe he was right. Maybe he was finally done with bounty hunting, especially if it was becoming such an easy task. What would he do though, for the rest of his life? He had no idea. He doubted he was meant for anything else except bounty hunting. He had given up on being a killer for the syndicate. What was left for him to do with his specific skill set?

He would definitely leave the Bebop. He doubted he would be able to coexist with Faye in the same place and at the same time now. For no other reason than the fact that it would always be awkward from then on out. If Faye even survived.

"Spike?" came the hoarse voice from the bed.

Spike straightened away from the doorframe he had been leaning against, his attention brought back to the matter at hand.

Charlie was looking at him, his monitors surrounding him beeping faintly. The gentle sounds of a tired heart still holding on. He seemed very weary in his bed, his eyes half closed, his weathered skin much too pale. With a limp hand the old man motioned the bounty hunter in.

Reluctantly, Spike entered the room, pausing beside the old man's bedside, his trench falling loose around his long legs.

Looking up at him, his blue eyes filmy, Charlie said, "I think…it was that last cigarette that did it to me." And his smile was mischievous.

But his voice betrayed him. This was the end, of that Spike was very aware. The bounty hunter stared at him, feeling his heart clench for the smallest moment before releasing into nothingness. It was all he could give this old man that he didn't know but felt like he had known forever because of Faye.

Swallowing uncertainly, the old man's blue eyes shifted as if he was reluctant to say his next words. "I saw her…" Charlie whispered after another moment of silence, sounding astounded and very heavy hearted at the same time. And those blue eyes darted back to Spike's face, seeming to want him to understand.

Spike merely gazed at him, his brow furrowing the slightest bit. "Who?" he questioned, tilting his head.

Charlie smiled brilliantly, life almost coming back into those eyes. "Your Faye," he replied painfully. So very weary but insistent. "I went to the sixth floor this morning, had a nurse take me…to the room you told me…and I saw her."

Well. This was going to be interesting.

"Did you talk to her?" Spike asked him quietly.

Charlie made a small gesture under his covers, almost like a shrug, and he was so small in the bed. When he had met the man before, he had seemed bigger, so full of life. And now this man seemed nothing more than a weak bag of bones. How had this happened in one day? "What do you say…to a ghost? Or an angel?" The older man asked in a tone full of awe. When Spike simply waited for him his eyes shifted sideways, away from Spike to the window in his room. Red sunlight beamed in, the last powerful rays before the sunset was done. The old man's eyes came to rest on that sunlight blindly. "I stopped…in the doorway. And she was sitting up in bed, just looking out her window. The sun was behind her, making her _glow_ and I must have said…something. Because she looked at me. And it was _my_ Faye. The way I remembered her. The way she used to look in the morning when I would go visit her and find her still sleeping. It was like…she had come back…"

Spike's brow drew in mournfully.

Charlie was nodding as he spoke, seeming to need him to understand, to see the encounter the way he had. "I get it now. I get that I made a mistake but…but if I hadn't I would never have met Kathryn. But she's forgiven me! Seeing her in that bed, like an angel with the sunlight in her hair, looking the same as she did so long ago, she's forgiven me! That's what it means!"

Spike swallowed shallowly. Or maybe it just meant that Faye had been ok in the morning after scaring the shit out of the hospital staff during the night. But when he had seen her the next morning she had been in even worse shape than before; intubated, unconscious and on life support. There was no way she could have been sitting up in bed when Charlie had gone to see her. "Yeah, that's what it means then," Spike agreed quietly.

Charlie nodded at him with a beaming smile. And he looked back toward the window, eyes resting on something outside. Spike gazed at him for another long moment before lifting his eyes to look at what he was looking at. And he saw it in that moment because it was suddenly so much more brilliant than he was used to it being. Surrounded by the red of the setting sun, it flared like a sun all by itself.

Faye's golden star.

Spike frowned at it, hovering in the darkening sky and lighting it up as the sunlight dwindled away. It was bright, that star. Luminous. And there was something very wrong suddenly. Reaching out to the old man unconsciously, his hand passed over Charlie's palm before he whirled and ran out of the room. The older man did not call out after him and he realized as he ran that his attention was still probably caught by that brilliant star, perhaps blinded by it.

He took the emergency staircases down, his mind a whirl of furious thoughts. Of that feeling that something was wrong, so very wrong.

Bursting out the front doors into the evening, as the sun finally set and sent the sky black, Spike stared up at the stars overhead. It was a clear night, not like the night before with the pelting rain. He waited, anxiously, uncertainly. He had seen something like this before, had felt this ominous feeling. And he was feeling it again, here and now. But this wasn't right. Faye had the serum in her, Jack had said that he had given enough of it to her. But he had also said that maybe she hadn't had enough, that maybe he had miscalculated. And Faye had already taken a downturn the night before, scaring them all. The doctors themselves had said it. She wouldn't survive another turn like the one she had experienced the night before. But she would be fine. He was certain of it. She would be-

Before his very eyes, the star gleamed brilliantly for a long moment, lighting the sky. And then, just like that, it slipped from its place, vanishing in a stream of yellow and what resembled a streak of fire with a lasting tail. He followed it with his eyes for the split second that it lasted. And then when it was gone he was searching the sky for it still, searching to see where it could've gone.

But he wasn't a fool. He knew where it had gone.

Whirling back around he raced right back into the hospital, ramming into nurses and visitors, making for the elevator and jamming the button erratically. He waited only a few moments on impatient limbs before realizing that it wasn't coming fast enough. Because he needed to know and he needed to know immediately. Looking over his shoulder and feeling a familiarity once more in the emergency stairs, he made for those and took them, making it to the sixth floor in a matter of seconds. These stairs were quickly becoming his favorite means of escape.

Bursting out onto Faye's floor he slid to a stop, looking both ways. There was an insistent beeping hovering in the hallway, on this floor. One that turned the insides of his stomach anxiously.

Recognizing the layout of the floor, he knew her room was down to the left and then around that corner to the right. Darting down the corridor, sliding across slippery floors, he turned the corner and saw the room at the end of the hall.

Jet was hovering several feet outside Faye's room, pacing, a rigid straightness to his posture. And there was a flurry of movement in the room itself, several nurses shifting back and forth amidst the persistent beeping blare that was coming from the same room. Spike moved down the corridor, frowning the closer he came to that shriek. "What?" was all he could utter, his eyes narrowing. He understood suddenly what the beeping had been, the swift rush of noise. And he took a step to move past Jet even as the older bounty hunter reached for him, even as a nurse abruptly came forward and pushed him back.

"Sir, I need you to wait outside-"

Spike looked at Jet, a frown crossing his face. "What the fuck is going on?" he asked, his voice running thin, his eyes hard.

"Sir-"

"Spike, let them work," Jet ordered brusquely and his muscled arms blocked Spike's way, barring him and holding him from moving forward to even glance into the room.

But he needed to know. He needed to _see._

"Heart rate's dropping," one of the medical personnel, an older gentleman stated from inside, his eyes darting to the heart monitor beside Faye's bed. As Spike looked toward him, attempting to look into the room, the doctor motioned to the nurse forcefully. "Get them away from the door-"

"Sir, _please_," the nurse said, her face determined.

Spike allowed her to shove him backward, confused, not understanding. "What the hell is happening?" he asked Jet without looking toward him, his hand lifting to the doorway.

"Just let them work. They know what they're doing," Jet said quietly. And he also had a firm set to his jaw, his heavier frame stiff as if there was something pent up inside. Spike understood that sensation because that same something was working its way up his body and leaving him rigid and confused and he _hated_ this feeling. This hunch that something was so very wrong.

The beeping turned into a prolonged whine, the room suddenly silent for the slightest moment. And then, in a flurry of movement and a barrage of noise, the medical personnel flocked around the bed. Spike craned his neck in an attempt to look into the room, Jet bowing his head beside him even as he held him back.

"Flatlining. Paddles. Let's go," the doctor in the room ordered curtly in a no-nonsense tone and a second figure turned to a small machine, taking up two small pads. Quickly, he peeled a layer from the pads, tossing them aside and he disappeared from view for a moment, the machine silent. Reappearing, the man flicked a switch on the machine and a high-pitched keening sounded.

"Charging."

"Go," the doctor ordered.

The nurse beside the machine shouted, "Clear!" before jamming a flat button and Faye's figure suddenly spasmed, her legs shifting erratically.

There was another moment of pure stillness, silence in the room. Then came the voice of the doctor once more. "Still flat. Going again."

The nurse at the door sent Spike a sincere glance before respectfully taking hold of the door and closing it in his face. Spike stared, stunned into silence as the door was closed on him and for a long moment he remained silent, his breathing slowing, unable to look away from the surface before him. Through the door he heard very little, only too aware of Jet's hand on his arm, his other hand blocking him from moving closer to the door.

"Spike."

They had said she wouldn't survive it if this happened again. Something about her body being too weak, not strong enough. He wished at that moment that he had listened to the doctors that morning because at the moment he was very lost.

He had been at so many bedsides in his life. So many people dying on him. So many people finally letting go though he had asked them to hold on. There was always someone else letting go. Always. He cocked his head, not knowing what to say but feeling as if he had to say something. As if his words would stop someone else from giving up. "She was doing better," he uttered in confusion, his face uncertain. And even hearing his own words he knew they weren't enough.

Jet stared at him, his arm still barring the way, his expression disagreeing with his words. "It's nothing. She's just trying to scare us. You know the way she is. She's just trying-"

Spike took a step back silently. And even as Jet turned to follow him with his glance, his hand dropping away from the wall, Spike merely closed his eyes. He could hear the sound of the heart monitor and it was still shrieking monotonously. That same high beep of a heart stilled. He couldn't hear it anymore.

Had he done this? Was this his fault? He shook his head to himself to dispel that noise. He should have left Faye to Jack. She would have survived if he had just left her with him. But, no matter what, those men would still have come for Jack. Would everything have turned out differently if Faye had remained under Jack's care? Would she still be in a stasis pod of that serum now, forgotten as Jack had dealt with that last threat?

And even if it was just a joke that Faye was playing now, even if she did have any control over it, it didn't matter because he just couldn't hear that sound anymore. That damn whine of the heart monitor. He couldn't hear it and he couldn't stay in this place surrounded by it. How did anyone work here, _stay_ here with the threat of that horrible sound hovering near? He swallowed past a blockage in his throat, thinking yet again, those same words.

_There have been so many people in my life letting go._

"Hey. Spike-" Jet was still before him, looking worried now.

He spun wordlessly and stalked away. He needed space between himself and that noise. And that sound of silence. He needed air and a cigarette. Two completely opposite things. He needed them both. Turning at the end of the corridor he made for the emergency exit and burst out into that cool stillness, leaving behind that wretched sound of death. He took the staircases down as if he floated, his limbs numb all the way down to the main floor, his lungs constricted. Tight. He couldn't have forced a breath even if he had tried. But that was ok. Because all he needed now was to get away, away from that damn sound.

He was told the next morning that Charles Parkerson had passed away that night as well.


	43. Epilogue: That Song She Sings

**A/N: You guys...this is the end. And while I can't thank everyone for all their support (through the YEARS!) and for following me and being patient, I will say that I thank you ALL from the bottom of my heart and I hope you guys don't fall out of touch. Keep checking up with the website and my next endeavor is a Doctor Who fic so if you guys follow DW keep an eye out! Thank you once more, everyone! And take care!**

**Epilogue - That Song She Sings:**

He didn't regret coming to the casino. He just regretted the fact that seeing it made him want to run again. Or at least disappear into a shadow and pretend he had never existed. Upon arriving and stepping from the Swordfish II he was aware of the changes. There was a refined air to the casino now and as he trailed over to the grand entrance he heard the soft jazz spill out, the sound of the machines a bit muffled. He paused as he neared and bowed his head at one point, hands finding their way into his pockets as he came to a stop.

This spot here. Black Jack had held a gun to Faye's head here. If he examined the floor he could convince himself his blood had left a permanent stain. Lifting his head to the night sky he found himself searching for her star but it was not to be found in that black canvas. There was a new star in its place, a brilliant white one and he wondered whose star that was. Who the owner was and if they were living a pleasant life, blissfully unaware that he had lost a friend for that star to exist. He hesitated for a long while in silence, merely standing there and staring. The jazz that floated out was soft and dreamy, the piano tinkling sorrowfully. But it was all in his mind, this somberness he thought he felt in the night. It wasn't real.

Jet Black came out to stand at the grand entrance of the casino and as he dropped his head he caught sight of the older man as he waved. He nodded and bowed his head, trudging on in silence.

He still had no idea why he was here.

"Nice place, eh?" Jet called to him as he neared and he found himself nodding once more in agreement as he climbed the steps slowly. Jet waved at the gilded entrance to the casino hanging over him. "Weird to see it and know it's in different hands now."

"Yeah," Spike murmured, seeing images of Ed in a white frilly dress once upon a time. Visions of Faye at his side, dressed in a stunning black piece, waiting to play her part in their plan to steal money from Jack. In the end they had been nothing but grifters, he thought with a pained inward smile.

Jet glanced at him, his narrowed eyes sweeping up and down Spike's lean frame. "You look good. Better," he corrected with a small shrug. When Spike didn't respond to that the older bounty hunter turned and began to lead, taking them into the lobby. And Spike saw where the music drifted from, why the sound of the jackpot machines seemed so far away. To the right, winding around large pillars there was a small area, a lounge, and the music drifted from there. Spike cocked his head a bit, peered as far as he could see and he was able to make out the pianist on a small stage, head bobbing slowly, eyes closed to the music.

That was the ticket right there.

The table area surrounded a grand sweeping bar, the bartender a tall man with a beaming smile for the ladies and what seemed to be a quick joke for the gentlemen. Classy place this had become. He would go the bar once he finally told Jet he wasn't in the mood to gamble or mingle, in the mood to catch up. Who really mingled anymore anyway?

He slowed, taking a deep breath. Jet looked good as well, holding himself straight and proud. Dressed in a cream-colored suit and his usual fedora. Stylish.

He wondered how Ed was, observing Jet.

The night Charles and Faye had passed away he had taken to his Swordfish and flown right back to the Bebop, content to sit in the hangar looking up at a night sky devoid of yellow stars. And the next morning, when Jet had finally dragged himself in to tell him the final news, he had shrugged it off. Well, he couldn't really say he had shrugged it off. He had packed up when Jet had finally gone to sleep that morning and he had left without a word. Simple as that. Jet had never known he had gone until he had done it. Ed had watched him go with something akin to sadness in her amber eyes but he hadn't bothered to turn around and look back to decipher the expression. He had seen quite enough. He had flown away that morning and hadn't looked back since. Except to check in with Jet periodically. A call here. A communication sent there, telling him he was fine. That everything was fine.

He didn't know if there had been a funeral held for Charles Parkerson. He knew there hadn't been one for Faye because that's just how things ran when you were part of the Bebop crew.

Jet led him on with a wave of his metallic arm and Spike followed quietly, feeling the need for a cigarette. The smoke had curled out of the lounge and had assaulted him in the last moment and he needed the cigarette then the way he needed another breath. He reached into his pocket as Jet led him down the lobby, past the reception area and the further they went the louder the machines became. He walked in silence, not wishing to speak and not having anything to say had he wanted to.

"Casino's been renovated. First floor's full of restaurants and lounges now. Casino's on the second floor. The crazy kid's been on a machine all night," Jet called back to him as they hopped onto an escalator, riding it up.

Spike didn't mention the fact that he had been in this casino before, that they all had, Faye with them. When they had swindled Jack out of some of his woolong. He merely wondered why Jet had called on him and invited him out.

They came to pause at the large entrance to the second casino floor and the room glittered with lights and money. Spike watched the servers bounce around, dressed formally, all smiles, and he would have liked to have smiled then. He didn't feel it inside, though.

And then he heard Jet. "Wait, what?" he asked with a frown, halfway through fishing out his pack of smokes.

Jet nodded to their right and sure enough, in a small corner machine, her bare feet kicking happily in the air and Ein cradled in one arm, Radical Edward was playing the slots like there was no tomorrow. Spike was sure his eyes bugged out of his head as he observed the ludicrous scene in disbelief.

"How is she here? And barefoot?" Spike asked Jet. "Why hasn't she been kicked off the machine?"

Jet was smiling and shaking his head at the scene himself. "It's all about who you know, Spike," he said to him and he clasped his shoulder for a moment, moving to say something more.

A man appeared at Jet's side then, hovering close, and he wore the uniform of the casino security. "Mr. Black," he said loudly and his voice was drowned out for a moment as, from the corner, there came the suspicious sound of a jackpot. And sure enough, Ed squealed happily, tossing Ein into the air as the machine began to spew tokens at the hacker.

"Edward _won!"_

Spike stared in utter incredulity for a moment longer, reaching out blindly to poke at Jet and as he turned his attention back, the security guard had leaned into Jet.

"-san would like to meet with you," the guard shouted to be heard. "Concerning reparations."

Jet looked at him. "Now?" he asked.

The guard nodded. "Yes, sir."

Jet nodded with him and then turned to Spike and clasped him on the shoulder once more. "Try out the lounge," he said to him over the racket. "I'll meet up with you in a bit. Get yourself a drink. It's on Ed!" And he motioned once more to the hacker as she tossed tokens into the air cheerfully. Several attendants had neared and they swarmed around the hacker, congratulating and clapping for her as they began to help her collect her winnings.

"Some kids have all the luck," Spike sighed and he nodded to Jet as the older bounty hunter followed the security guard. Shoving his hands back into his pockets he found his box of cigarettes and finally pulled it out, floating back out of the casino and trudging his way back down to the lounge. The box felt suspiciously light as he pulled it out and he remembered before he even opened the box that it was empty. He had smoked the last one earlier that day, in the cold morning hours, staring out as day had come. He had contemplated the issue all morning, the last few mornings, whether to return to the Bebop or continue to move on. Months now, he had been debating it, the pros and cons. And he was still at a loss. He sighed inwardly once more, tossing out the box into a shiny garbage can and he shoved his hands in his pockets, drawing close to the lounge and the sound of jazz. It floated around him, threatening to take him away if he let it. If he just let it. The pianist was winding down his song, and as he reached the lounge entrance he saw a saxophonist now climbing the stage, shooting the pianist a thumbs-up as he set up while the pianist played the ending strains of his song.

The ambiance was quiet and grateful, he noticed, as he entered and made a beeline for the bar. Grateful for a good song and a good player. Grateful for the elegant pastime that allowed them to leave behind their troubles. Spike entered, allowing the cool darkness to swallow him and he paused beside the bar as a couple just left. Stepping aside courteously, he leaned there at the bar for a silent moment, appreciating the music as much as the next person, just thinking and letting himself be in this dark place that felt strangely like a haven. The song came to an end after another moment and the bartender came to Spike with a slow smile, wiping a glass. "What can I get you tonight, sir?" he asked him politely.

Spike glanced at him wearily. "Anything you think I look like I drink," he murmured to the bartender and the sentence brought a wide smile to the man's face. "And don't call me sir. I feel old enough."

"All right then, mister," the bartender agreed and he fished a glass, setting it up with some ice and from behind him he pulled out a bottle of Venus Brandy, showing it to Spike for consideration.

Spike stared at it for a long moment in silence. Interesting he would choose that. Interesting that f he closed his eyes he could smell her, could feel her in his arms when they had danced. When he had surprised her with the ability _to_ dance and the capacity to feel, even if only in the moment. He nodded to the brandy after another thoughtful moment and the bartender fixed him the drink, sliding it to him.

"Rough day?" the bartender asked.

Spike took the drink and plopped down on a barstool, ignoring the applause as the pianist bowed to the scattered audience. "Rough life," he replied and he took a sip of the drink, remembering the taste. Remembering the anger that one Faye Valentine had taken out on him in drunken weariness. He didn't blame her still for her anger. Especially not now.

The pianist settled down once more as the applause dwindled away and as silence filtered in for a small stay. And he held the glass in his hand, not understanding why, at that moment, he felt such sadness that it made him ache deep inside. He had felt something like that twice in his life. The first time he had lost Julia. And the second time he had lost Julia. And now he felt it again and he realized it wasn't so much because he had loved Faye, although perhaps somewhere inside he had. But because he missed her and her crazy ways, her very proud and arrogant ways. And he was sorry for it in the end.

He still didn't have it in him to love anyone else. Maybe he never would again. But perhaps Faye would have-

"You can find something new yet," the bartender said to him quietly and Spike lifted his head to look at him quickly. The bartender smiled at him gently. "This rough life of yours. There's always something new, something better, at the end of the road."

"Yeah," Spike said as if agreeing. And he took another sip of his drink. Behind him, at the stage the pianist began again, a gentle melody that brought such sadness it was palpable.

This had been a bad idea, he decided right then and there. This would be the last time he allowed Jet to convince him to go anywhere. He was happy with their small bursts of communication. He could continue to believe he had never come back after his second death, that the last year had never happened and that somewhere out there Faye was still alive and thinking _he_ was dead. It was better if she believed him to be dead than vice versa. Easier.

And the thought forced him to clench his hand tightly around his drink. When had he become a coward?

The saxophonist remained quiet for the moment but with the piano came a gentle, husky voice, filtering out to fill the room with the somberness. Spike didn't bother turning around to look at the singer, instead caught by the amber liquid in his glass.

_"I hate you, Spike."_

Yeah, he would always drink to that. He doubted it would be the last time he heard a woman say that to him. Or a man. Or anyone, really. He bowed his head, caught by the gentle melody, caught by the woman's voice against his will. But he couldn't bear to turn to look at her. He didn't think himself strong enough to look upon her and discover that she had blond hair and an angelic face.

Or dark hair and haughty green eyes.

Even thinking it he took another drink, this one a bigger swallow, and he felt the cold liquid trail down his throat, coat him inside, still burning somehow. The piano made the room feel heavy with sorrow, the woman's voice just as painfully emotional. Without waiting a moment Spike drank the rest of the brandy, earning a raised eyebrow from the bartender.

"Might want to go a bit easier on that, cowboy," the bartender said to him. But Spike motioned wearily and he came forth with the Venus Brandy once more, filling his glass yet again.

_I'm a space cowboy._

Yeah. Those days were over. Spike took the drink into his hand and hesitated, suddenly and not knowing why, needing something to drink to. He looked at the bartender wordlessly and as if the man knew he quipped, "World peace?"

Spike snorted quietly at that. "It's a pile of crap, my friend," he said to the bartender as he lifted the glass and merely gazed at it. "All crap."

With a smile the bartender reached out and clasped Spike's wrist, pausing him. Spike looked at him and the bartender motioned with his head toward the stage. Spike merely continued to look at him, his face drawn. He didn't need to look at the stage. With a shake of his head he turned his eyes back to his drink but the woman's voice pervaded his thoughts, the very air around him. She almost sang to him, he allowed himself to believe. To him and to his need for a toast.

_So here's to life and every joy it brings.  
Here's to life.  
To dreamers and their dreams.  
May all your storms be weathered.  
And all that's good get better.  
Here's to life.  
Here's to love.  
Here's to you._

With those last words sung, he suddenly wanted to know. Listening to her voice, listening to the raw sadness in her tone he needed to know what she looked like, if she was light-haired. Dark-haired. If she carried that sadness on her face or only in her voice. He turned on the stool, glancing over his shoulder as she sang and his eyes carried to the stage where the woman waited by the saxophone player. And she was dark-haired. Purple-haired in the light. With sad green eyes and a glass of champagne lifted in the air. He stared at her, his lips parting, and in the back of his mind it registered that perhaps she had been toasting him the entire song for the audience was looking at him as well, several smiling, others looking almost dreamy. She slowly lowered the glass as she sang, and he hadn't known her to have ever had a voice like that.

No. He was lying to himself now. He had known her to have such a voice. When he had slept and had dreamt of Julia, dreamt that it had been Julia singing to him. And it had been her, that woman there with the mischief in her green eyes and the sadness to her face. She somehow looked older then. She looked toward the saxophone player as he played a small bit, her lips lifting in a smile to him and he returned a grin behind his piece.

Feeling the hair rise on the back of his neck, Spike merely watched in silence as Faye Valentine sang, her lilting voice reaching out to the audience and he understood the sadness then, the somberness. He had seen it on her face before, had seen it caught in her gaze and then reflected twice as strongly whenever she had looked at a window or a mirror. An image of Faye at the window in her room on the Bebop, arms clutching her knees to her chest.

_"The girl. In the video. With the purple hair and the pom-poms. She was there for a second. But she's gone now. Where does she go?"_

He recalled the sorrow in her eyes and on her face at his words. But he would never have attached it to the woman onstage when she smiled like that.

And when the song ended gently to the melody of the sax the audience applauded, Spike turning in his stool and waiting for her. Carrying the champagne in her hand she brought it to her lips and took a small sip of it, saying something to the sax player and the pianist before climbing down the side staircase of the stage and making her way to him. She wore an evening gown, a long, low-cut black number with pieces that wound around her neck and tied at the back to display slender, white limbs. He watched her and when she came near he had a smile on his face for her, almost invisible but there.

Smiling also then, she set her champagne down and pushed it toward the bartender who took it with a nod and a smile of his own, making it disappear beneath the counter. And then she plopped down on the barstool beside him and merely grinned, gazing at him.

She looked, by all accounts, quite beautiful. And happy.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said to her quietly, his expression soft and bordering on blankness. The typical Spike Expression.

She nodded and tucked a bent leg under her as she shifted, almost resembling a little girl. "You, too," she replied and she glanced at the bartender thoughtfully. He looked back at her, drawing close quizzically but instead Faye glanced back at Spike and arched an eyebrow. "Buy me a drink, gaucho," she said to him and motioned to the bartender with a tilt of her head.

Spike blinked at her and then made a sweeping gesture to the bartender. "Anything the lady desires," he said to him.

Faye looked at the bartender once more, giving him a small nod. Wordlessly, he reached behind himself again for the Venus Brandy, extracting it from the numerous bottles on display and pulling out another glass. One piece of ice was added as he poured and he slid the drink to Faye with a small secretive smile all his own.

"Order that often?" Spike asked and he looked at her, gazing at her shamelessly. It was almost surreal, the entire moment. He was sure there was noise in the lounge but all he was aware of was the sudden ability to breathe deeply and to hear the breath shift inside him.

He hadn't known he'd been suffocating.

She didn't even seem to hear him as she faced him once more. Her lips parted as she caught him staring at her, her fingers slipping around the glass. Her green eyes shimmered and darkened in the cozy light of the lounge, meeting his and holding for a long, almost eternal moment. And when she spoke again her voice was soft, faint. "Why couldn't you look at me like that before?" she asked him in a quietly musing tone, returning his gaze for a long moment. And she bowed her head to the drink a second later, lifting a finger to trace the rim. Even if he had gone to answer her she was moving on, shrugging herself back to the question he had asked her. "I order it when I come here, usually. It's the one drink that comforts me."

Spike nodded that he understood because he did. Dancing with her, that time that felt so long ago, he had been comforted as well by that drink. He averted his gaze then, lifting his glass to his lips to take a sip of the cold drink. And he hesitated momentarily, the glass hovering before his lips. "You look good," he said to her almost inaudibly and he tilted his drink as if to swallow back his words. Or to mask them, drown them away somehow.

Faye continued to stare at him as he took a slight swallow. "You do, too," she said in kind. And she reached out to stop him as he went to take another sip of his drink, her fingers wrapping around his wrist.

Spike paused, his eyes sliding to look at her once more, questioningly. She held his gaze for a moment, a long quiet moment in which he only felt her fingers on his wrist. And he let his gaze drop to her chest, to the imperfections there on her breast. He lowered the glass back to the counter and left it, instead reaching out to her and sliding aside her dress a bit. She allowed her fingers to follow his wrist as he did so and when his fingers traced the scars there her lips parted, her breath suddenly hitching as her eyes fluttered.

How perfect. And how very unlike Faye, he realized, his fingers trailing across the raised flesh, those small flaws that on her were just right. "I thought you were one to hide scars," he murmured to her, his fingertips trailing the discolored marks where she had been wounded so long ago. A lifetime ago. "You always seemed the type."

She held his wrist for another moment, her eyes averted, before her grip slipped. "Yeah," she whispered and she lifted her eyes to him, her green eyes wide. "You always did get me wrong, Spike."

He smiled at that, meeting her eyes once more. "Yeah," he agreed. And he finally pulled away his hand, returning it to take up his glass once more. "I bet you don't carry your Glock anymore, though." And he went to take a drink again.

She stopped him once more, her smile turning mischievous. "Always get me wrong," she repeated and he let his eyes drop as she shifted her legs away from her body, parting them.

"Always coming on to me-" he began with an arch to his brow when he caught sight of the weapon half hidden against the inside of her thigh, concealed by the dress and shadow.

She arched her own brow at him. "Always, cowboy," she said to him softly.

He stared at her, his eyes shifting from one green eye to the other and she knew she had caught him off guard with her answer. All that time they had spent together that she had played, that she had _downplayed_ their friendship, only to throw him now. He could only gaze at her, caught by her. Too easily had he slipped right back into his usual self with her only a moment before and it had been comfortable to be there with her.

With a low voice, unwilling then to always place himself into that safe comfortable place, he said quietly, "Let's blow this joint, Romani."

A pure thrill of electricity sparked the air around them. He felt it just as much as she did, of that he was well aware. But then a smile curled Faye's lips again as she dragged her knee back in against the stool. She spun around to face the counter once more, turning from his gaze. "I can't," she answered glibly, her shoulders just a bit too straight and Spike only too aware. "I'm working."

The bartender was smiling to himself when Spike glanced at him. Or perhaps smiling at them, except that his eyes were on the glass he was cleaning. "Does it pay as well as bounty hunting?" he asked her, turning his attention back to her and motioning to the stage. He didn't understand exactly why but he was not ready for this new feeling hovering over them to disappear right then. Not now that he was finally allowed to open a door to it.

Faye lifted the glass into her hand, swishing the brandy about. "Better," she answered. "No chance of accidental maiming and death. That's always a plus."

"But then where's the fun?" Spike asked her with a charming smirk, leaning against the counter and closer to her.

She was smiling as she answered, as she gazed at her glass of brandy. "The fun, Spike," she said, his name coming out in what came close to a purr, "is actually _running_ the casinos."

Spike stared at her for a moment in confusion, the earlier haze fading away. "The casinos," he echoed in a flat tone, trying to wrap his mind around that. "Which casino?" And as she tossed him a glance out of the corner of her eye he uttered, _"This casino?"_

The bartender came forward once more, leaning into Faye. "This beautiful woman here is my boss," he said to Spike in a confidential tone, causing the bounty hunter to look at him in disbelief. "And she's pretty easy on the eyes, too."

Faye turned her head to look at Spike, an eyebrow arched. "I don't know where I find them," she sighed.

Spike held out a hand, shaking his head. "Hold on," he interrupted, and he caught the amused glance Faye exchanged with the bartender. "You _own_ this casino? This one," he stated and as she nodded in the affirmative he uttered, "How in the _hell_ did you manage that?"

"She owns a few, actually," the bartender cut in before straightening and sliding down the counter to attend to a male customer at the end of the bar.

"A few?" Spike repeated dully.

Faye nodded again, trailing her fingers across the glass of brandy. "Jack left me everything he owned," she replied quietly and she turned her head in Spike's direction but did not look at him. "The second guy to do it but the only guy to get it right. And mean it."

Spike blinked at her, rapidly. And then he settled rather numbly onto his rear once more, reviewing that piece of information. To own numerous casinos. All the casinos that Jack had owned. "And…your debt. Was it really wiped?"

Faye merely smiled once more, pulling her drink close and sipping it.

His breath whooshed out of him in a single burst. Turning back to the bar counter he merely looked down at his drink, his mouth suddenly dry. In a matter of moments his entire world had just been turned upside down. Swallowing thickly, wanting to drink down his entire glass, all he could do was breathe shallowly. Lips parting, he turned his head toward her and she was watching him, waiting for him rather patiently. Faye was never patient. It was unnerving. "I…"

Faye tilted her head, lights from the stage gleaming across her black hair as she shifted.

"I watched you die," he stated, eyes trained on the bar counter.

"Did you?" she asked him quietly and when she tilted her head further he realized she was doing it to catch his eye.

He obliged her, dark gaze darting to meet hers and he had never before noticed how green they were. He was much too aware of her suddenly, as if her presence caused sparks. He felt as if every part of him was alive and he had felt this way twice before, when Julia had been with him and when Julia had come back to him. Now, every part of him that her eyes touched upon sent hot and cold through him.

"The way I watched _you_ die?" she continued, seeming unaware of his speechlessness.

He blinked at her. "You never watched me die," he replied with a small arch to his brow.

Faye's eyes saddened at that just the slightest bit. As if a shadow had passed over her face. "Yes, I did, Spike. From the very beginning. Before you even went away. Little by little I watched you die. Like there was nothing else for you." She swallowed and they both looked down at the counter before them to avoid staring into each other's eyes.

"Then yeah," he said after a moment's thought. "I did watch you die. Because ever since I came back it was like little deaths. Every fight we had was just one more notch."

She didn't reply to that, her fingers playing with her glass of brandy absentmindedly.

"They said you wouldn't survive if your body failed again," he continued, his tone softening. "What happened?"

When he looked at her she was hesitating, her lips parted to speak but her eyes trained on the counter and her drink. She had more than one scar, he noticed briefly as his eyes trailed up her arms and across her shoulders. Marks where she had taken gunfire. She rivaled him in scars now, it seemed. "I…um…had a visitor. At the end."

Spike didn't respond for a moment. "Like an angel?"

She looked at him quickly and the expression there was priceless, very much a Faye Valentine expression. "Like a lawyer and his goons, you ass," she said to him with a heavy glare. And when he suddenly grinned rather foolishly, turning back to his drink, she also allowed a small smile to curl her lips. "Honestly? An angel?" she echoed as if confused that he would even have thought of that.

"Hey, you said a visitor at the end. What was I supposed to think?"

Shaking her head, stifling a small chuckle, she went on. "He was a lawyer for Jack. Turns out right before it all went down, Jack rewrote his will. Like he knew he wasn't going to make it. Or maybe was just going to give up. He left me…everything. Including his laboratories. His research. Some…samples."

Spike whipped his head to stare at her. "The serum?"

She was silent for a moment. "Not a lot of it left in those samples. All that was really left of it was the research to recreate it." She didn't look up even as she felt his eyes boring into her. "I destroyed it. All of it."

"The research?"

"All of it," she said again, firmly. Her eyes lifted to stare straight ahead blindly and then quickly lowered back down to her drink. "I-It was right before you came to see me. And I knew I wanted to take whatever was left of it…to cure myself. So I had the lawyer administer it. And he wanted to see me after, wanted me to actually _take_ everything that Jack had left me. But I was worried and so was Jet. I didn't know what it would do to me, if it would actually make me better. But I knew I wanted to…talk to you, before I took it. I wanted to…see."

Spike waited for her even though he knew what she was going to say.

"I wanted to see what your answer was going to be."

Spike nodded, understanding. It explained a lot of what had happened that last day, answered a lot of questions he'd walked away with. There had been nights he had woken up and started to think about that day, about who those men had been, what that conversation with Jet had entailed. And then she had closed down on him after he'd answered her question and the next day she had died. Or he thought she had.

"The serum…almost didn't work. Turns out the sample that had been administered to me was not a finished sample," Faye was going on. Movement from the bartender brought her attention to him but he was keeping back, looking from the end of the bar over to her periodically. "My body…was not prepared for it. And that's why Jet and me…why we were arguing that day. He didn't want me to do it. And I was too scared not to try."

Spike blinked, staring at her. "Scared of what? What if it had killed you? It _did_ kill you! You flatlined there for a bit!"

She blinked her long lashes at him. "Made you nervous, didn't I?" she quipped, turning to him with a teasing smile.

Spike merely shook his head at her, at a loss for words. But then, as she looked back down at her drink, her smile dropping away, he registered that she was suddenly awkward. He hesitated before continuing, gauging her reaction. "You know…you act like you're tough. You always have. And you _are_ tough, I'll give you that." He grimaced, attempting to understand. "But you were scared that day. And you're still scared now. And I just want to know what the hell is scaring you so much."

Faye's eyes didn't move from her drink. "I'm not scared."

Spike sent her a look, his lips quirking slightly at the corner. "Let's not lie to ourselves here, Faye. Not anymore. That whole thing that happened before, all the fights, all the arguments, let's just leave it in the past. Right now, it's just you, me and some drinks in a lounge. You died and revived because of a serum and all your problems are done and in the past. So…"

She remained silent, her hands playing with the drink before her, the amber liquid swishing about gently. "So…" she echoed quietly. And she inhaled deeply, holding on to the glass for a long moment. "What now?"

Spike pursed his lips. "What do you mean, what now?"

"What happens now?" she repeated. And she glanced at him, one small glance before returning her attention to her drink. "I mean…it's like you said. Everything is taken care of. No more debt. No more life-threatening bounties. No more of that stuff. Just…me. And life. Now what?"

Spike stared at her once more, an expression crossing his face that was half amused and half mischievous. "Now?" he questioned. He picked up his drink, swishing the small amount that remained in it. "Now, Romani, we toast to your new life. Your _'free-of-all-your-troubles'_ new life."

Faye contemplated that for a long while, her eyes shifting from his drink to his eyes as he waited for her. Then, a small smile crinkling the corner of her mouth, a smile of regret, she lifted her drink as well. "How about, here's to…saying goodbye."

Spike stiffened slightly at that, his amusement slipping. She didn't know what she read there in his eyes but he recovered after an instant, his eyes dropping to her drink and in that moment it didn't matter as she gazed at him. "Ok," he murmured, a note of finality to his tone. "Here's to…goodbye then…"

"Anami-san."

Faye dragged her attention away to the young man that had appeared at Spike's back. Spike also turned a bit, his drink lowering back to the counter.

The Japanese boy fixed cold blue eyes on Spike before looking back to Faye. "I finished the search you asked of me. All the details are here," he said in slightly accented English as he lifted a small palmpad out to her, a laptop clutched between his other arm and side.

"Oh, thanks," she said to him quickly, lowering her drink to the counter and taking the pad into her hand. She glanced down at the info that crossed its small screen in interest. "Spike, you've met Kazuo, right?" she asked, feigning an absentminded tone though she tried very much to hold back a grin.

Spike glared at the boy. "I _have_, actually," he responded. "How's the back of the head doing?"

The boy didn't even grace that with a response.

"Net diver lackey?" Spike asked, turning back to Faye. "Ed not good enough anymore?"

Faye lifted her eyes from the information on the pad in her hand to meet Spike's gaze. "No one replaces Ed. He's my personal assistant," she corrected coyly. "Inherited him from Jack."

Spike arched a brow. "Very nice," he said shortly, eyeing the hacker once more before he turned around to the counter and placed his drink back down.

Faye followed his stiff gestures with her eyes for a silent moment, her head still bowed to the palmpad. Then she looked back at Kazuo, her gaze shifting sideways toward another familiar person that had just entered the lounge. "Oh…" she sighed under her breath, frowning wearily. "She's going to bankrupt me."

Ed came up beside Kazuo, looking at him with hearts beating in her eyes unabashedly. "Will Kazuo help Ed carry her woolong?" she questioned him, balancing Ein under one scrawny arm and a bag of coins in her other hand.

"Of course." He was already bending a bit to the bag as Spike glanced toward Ed.

"Ed," Faye sighed, leaning her head on her palm as she propped her arm on the bar counter. She lowered the palmpad to her lap, staring at the red-haired hacker. "Why can't you play with credits? Why do you always-" And she cut herself off after a thoughtful moment, shaking her head with a small smile. "Never mind."

Spike looked at her once more, arching a brow in question.

"You two go get Jet for me. I was supposed to meet him upstairs in the office. Bring him down here," she said to the two of them and she waved them off lazily.

With a little giggle, Ed took Kazuo's laptop from under his arm and propped it on her head, instead taking his hand with her own. He glanced down at her, a small smile curling his lips and together the two turned and walked off, leaving the lounge and heading toward the escalators.

"What did I just miss there?" Spike asked Faye once they had gone.

Faye smiled sweetly at him, her head tilted on her palm still. "She plays with coins because she knows she's always going to win," she said by way of explanation. "Ed has certain jackpot machines in my casinos rigged. She thinks I don't know but I do. And when she wins she gets big bags of coins that she makes Kazuo carry back to the Bebop for her. I actually think that's how Jet's maintaining the Bebop, on the woolong Ed wins here." She shrugged easily. "Anyway, I was wrong when I said he was my personal assistant. These days he's _her_ personal assistant."

Spike tossed her a knowing look. "Seems you taught her well. She's going to grow up to be a con artist."

Faye bit back the proud smile that threatened to break over her face. And she glanced down at the pad in her lap, her hand brushing over its small screen. "Anyway. Going back to…what we were talking about before-"

"About saying goodbye?" He looked back at the drink that waited before him still.

Faye nodded, her attention caught on the file on the palmpad. "Right. About that. How about we…hold off on goodbye," she broke off before adding, "for the moment."

Spike's interest was immediately piqued, his face questioning.

"For the night, maybe," Faye continued haltingly. And she raised her eyes, gazing at him with glinting green eyes through long black lashes.

Spike slowly turned in his seat once more, tilting his head slightly. "Are you asking me out for a one night stand, Ms. Valentine?" he asked her curiously. "Or should I say, Ms. Anami?"

Faye smiled impishly, her eyes dropping once more to the pad. "Actually," she purred, and she lifted the palmpad to him invitingly. "I was asking you out on a one night _bounty_, Mr. Spiegel. You and the crew, of course," she replied, a smile twitching the corners of her mouth. And as he took the palmpad, his eyes never leaving hers, she added, "But we can always see where the night leads after we bring that bounty in…"

This time, Spike didn't bother holding back the small smile. "A bounty, huh? A bigshot like you wants to come bounty hunting with lil' old me?" He looked down at the info on the palmpad, examining it. And his face shifted, a frown creasing his brow. "Hey, this is-"

"You and the crew," Faye corrected him swiftly. "Didn't I mention the rest of the crew? I guess I'm slipping these days…"

Spike pushed his drink aside, the toast clearly forgotten. At least for the moment. And maybe for longer than that. "What will you wear?" he asked her and he allowed his eyes to roam up her figure starting from her legs and clearing her entire frame.

"I'm sure I have some yellow vinyl somewhere," she sighed, unwilling to let him see what kind of effect that look was having on her. She also set her drink, and the toast, aside. For now.

Spike nodded, more to himself than to her. "This bounty…" he said thoughtfully, glancing back down at the pad. "This is small change for you these days."

She shrugged easily. "Not doing it for the cash," she said.

He knew that to be the very truth. But he chided her anyway. "That's a first." He waved the palmpad at her. "Scat Robinson. The RepairMan. Thought the ISSP had gotten him. That or at the very least Mars Police."

Faye glanced at the palmpad. "Maybe he escaped. Maybe someone let him go. Who cares? It's just one more bounty that needs to be brought in. Just happens to be personal."

Spike handed the pad back to her and she accepted it, dropping it on her lap once more. He motioned to it dismissively. "That should be a fairly easy bounty to bring in."

Her smile was contagious. "Yep. What _ever_ will we do for the rest of the night?"

It took him a while to answer, his a muscle in his jaw shifting. "I could think of a few things." His tone was blank but she didn't believe it for a minute. Glancing toward the lounge entryway he watched as Jet came off the escalator, fixing his fedora. "So…did everyone know except me?"

Faye didn't even bring up the past for that one. She merely glanced toward Jet as well, narrowing her eyes. "If you had hung around long enough, you would have seen them revive me," she said with another shrug, this one more delicate. "Once Jet told me you had left that night, I basically told him to let you believe that it was done. I wasn't going to go back to the Bebop since I had decided to accept all of Jack's assets if I survived. I had things that needed to be taken care of right then and there and once Jet told me you had left for good I thought…well, here we are full circle then."

"You wanted me to believe you were dead."

She blinked slowly at that. "I needed to do things for myself. Same as you."

Spike didn't reply for a moment, musing to himself. He had to admit to himself that when he had died the first time, he had needed the very same thing. To go, to run away, and to figure things out for himself without feeling like he had let anyone down. It wasn't letting someone down if they thought there was nothing you could've done. And he had let her believe that. Why should he feel differently about it if she had done the same to him?

Jet entered the lounge, his eyes fixing on the two of them and a small smile curling his lips. "Fancy meeting the two of you here. Together."

Spike turned his head in his direction as the larger bounty hunter plopped into the stool beside him. "Did you orchestrate this whole setup?" he asked him.

Jet pursed his lips and shook his head, taking off his fedora and placing it down on the counter. Motioning to the bartender, he replied, "I only did what she wanted. Same thing I did for you." His expression clearly read, _Neutral Party Here._

The bartender neared, wiping a glass. "Your usual, Mr. Black?" he inquired.

Jet shrugged. "Why not."

Spike sighed. "I can't believe you were both in on this," he said with a shake of his head.

They fell into silence as the bartender pulled forth a bottle of whiskey and added some to a small glass. "Another drink?" he asked Spike, his eyes darting to the remnants of his previous Venus Brandy.

Spike glanced at Faye.

Faye leaned forward and the bartender shifted his attention to her quickly. "Tom, why don't you clear away these drinks for me and bring two new drinks? The same."

The bartender nodded and did as she had asked, moving back down the counter to fetch new glasses. Spike looked at her as she leaned back once more and she read what his eyes said quite clearly. There went that toast then.

"What should we toast to?' Jet asked them, holding his drink and peering at them both curiously.

This time Faye glanced at Spike, meeting his mismatched eyes. "How about…to good friends?" she asked with an arched brow.

Jet shrugged in agreement but Spike was shaking his head. "How about to _old_ friends?"

"Is that a crack at my age?" Faye asked, a shadow of her old self shining through with the remark.

"Old friends and things to come," Jet suggested, his eyes coming to rest on his drink, a note of finality in his tone.

Faye looked at Spike once more.

"Works for me," he shrugged.

The bartender returned with two new drinks, placing them before Faye and Spike with a gentle smile. "Here you go, ma'am. Sir."

Each of them taking a drink, they turned to face each other, Spike leaning back in his seat. "Old friends," Jet began, holding up his drink to them.

"Things to come," Faye added, her green eyes darting to Spike for a long moment before moving back to their drinks.

"Cheers," Spike finished with a nod. And he smiled.

* * *


End file.
